
I 






Copyright N°_ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


% 


> 











































• . 








' 











'( 

S' Q 











< 















































































. 




















' 

















The Bluebird Books 


Mary Louise Solves a Mystery 

















\ 







Mary Louise 
Solves a Mystery 


By 


Edith Van Dyne 

Author of l , V f ‘ r > ' 

“ Aunt Jane’s Nieces Series ” f', A ^ 



Frontispiece by 

Anna B. Mueller 


The Reilly 8C Britton Co. 

Chicago 



Copyright, 1917 
by 

The Reilly & Britton Co. 


AIJG 13 1917 



Mary Louise Solves a Mystery 


©CU470644 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I Doctor and Patient.. 7 

II Mother and Daughter 23 

III Alora ' s Father. 29 

IV Alora ' s New Life 37 

V In the Studio r . .-. . 48 

VI Flitting 60 

VII Mary Louise Intrudes 69 

VIII Mary Louise Meets Alora 77 

IX Mary Louise Scents a Mystery... 85 

X Alora Speaks Frankly 95 

XI Jason Jones is Frightened.. 105 

XII Silvio's Gold 115 

XIII Dorfield 118 

XIV Home Again...., 127 

XV The Puzzle Becomes Intricate 132 

XVI Alora Wins Her Way.. 148 

XVII The Disappearance 156 

XVIII On the Trail... 181 


Contents 

PAGE 

XIX Decoyed 195 

XX Janet's Triumph 203 

XXI The Price of Liberty 211 

XXII A Compromise 215 

XXIII Mary Louise Has an Intuition 222 

XXIY An Interruption - 233 

XXY Jason Jones 241 

XXYI What Mary Louise Accomplished. 247 


Mary Louise Solves a Mystery 

CHAPTER I 

DOCTOR AND PATIENT 

A little girl sat shivering in a corner of a 
reception room in the fashionable Hotel Voltaire. 
It was one of a suite of rooms occupied by 
Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones, widely known for 
her wealth and beauty, and this girl — a little 
thing of eleven — was the only child of Mrs. 
Antoinette Seaver Jones, and was named Alora. 

It was not cold that made her shiver, for across 
the handsomely furnished room an open window 
gratefully admitted the summer sunshine and 
the summer breeze. Near the window, where 
the draught came coolest, a middle-aged woman 
in a sober dress sat reading. Alora did not 
look at this person but kept her gaze fixed 
anxiously upon the doorway that led to the cor- 
ridor, and the spasmodic shudders that at times 
shook her little body seemed due to nervous fear. 

7 


MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


The room was so still that every tick of the 
Dresden clock could be distinctly heard. When 
Miss Gorham, Alora’s governess, turned a page 
of her book, the rustle was appallingly audible. 
And the clock ticked on, and Miss Gorham turned 
page after page, and still the child sat bowed 
upon her chair and eagerly eyed the passageway. 

It seemed ages before the outer door of the 
suite finally opened and a man moved softly 
down the passage and paused at the entrance of 
the reception room. The man was white-haired, 
dignified and distinguished in appearance. Hat 
in hand, he stood as if undecided while Alora 
bounded from her seat and came to him, her eyes, 
big and pleading, reading his face with dramatic 
intentness. 

“ Well, well, my dear; what is it? ” he said 
in a kindly voice. 

“ May I see my mamma now , Doctor? ” she 
asked. 

He shook his head, turning to the table to 
place his hat and gloves upon it. 

“ Not just yet, little one,” he gently replied, 
and noting her quick-drawn breath of disappoint- 
ment he added: “ Why, I haven't seen her 
myself, this morning.” 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 


9 


“ Why do you keep me from her, Doctor 
Anstruther? Don’t you know it’s — it’s wicked, 
and cruel? ” — a sob in her voice. 

The old physician looked down upon the child 
pityingly. 

1 ‘ Mamma is ill — very ill, you know — and to 
disturb her might — it might — well, it might 
make her worse,” he explained lamely. 

“ I won’t disturb her. There’s a nurse in 
there, all the time. Why should I disturb my 
mamma more than a nurse? ” asked Alora 
pleadingly. 

He evaded the question. The big eyes discon- 
certed him. 

“ When I have seen your mother,” said he, 
“ I may let you go to her for a few minutes. 
But you must be very quiet, so as not to excite 
her. We must avoid anything of an exciting 
nature. You understand that, don’t you, Lory? ” 

She studied his face gravely. When he held 
out a hand to her she clung to it desperately and 
a shudder again shook her from head to foot. 

“ Tell me, Doctor Anstruther,” in low, pas- 
sionate tones, “ is my mother dying? ” 

He gave an involuntary start. 

“ Who put that notion into your head, Lory? ” 


10 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Miss Gorham.” 

He frowned and glanced reprovingly at the 
governess, who had lowered her book to her 
lap and was regarding the scene with stolid 
unconcern. 

“ You mustn’t mind such idle gossip, my dear. 
I am the doctor, you know, and I am doing all 
that can he done to save your mother’s life. 
Don’t worry until I tell you to, Lory; and now 
let me go to see my patient.” 

He withdrew his hand from her clasp and 
turned into the passage again. The girl listened 
to his footsteps as he approached her mother^ 
bedchamber, paused a moment, and then softly 
opened the door and entered. Silence again 
pervaded the reception room. The clock resumed 
its loud ticking. Miss Gorham raised her book. 
Alora went back to her chair, trembling. 

The front bedchamber was bright and cheery, 
a big room fitted with every modem luxury. The 
doctor blinked his eyes as he entered from the 
dim passage, for here was sunlight and fresh 
air in plenty. Beside the bed stood a huge vase 
of roses, their delicate fragrance scenting the 
atmosphere. Upon the bed, beneath a costly lace 
coverlid, lay a woman thirty-five years of age, 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 


11 


her beautiful face still fresh and unlined, the 
deep blue eyes turned calmly upon the physician. 

“ Welcome, Doctor Anstruther,” she said. 
“ Do you realize you have kept me waiting? ” 
U I am sorry, Mrs. Jones/ ’ he replied, ap- 
proaching her. “ There are so many demands 

upon my time that ’ y 

“ I know,” a little impatiently; “ but now that 
you are here please tell me how I am this 
morning. ’ ’ 

“ How do you feel? ” 

“ I do not suffer, but it takes more morphine 
to quiet the pain. Janet has used the hypodermic 
four times since midnight,” with a glance at the 
gray-robed nurse who stood silently by the table. 

The doctor nodded, thoughtfully looking down 
on her. There was small evidence of illness in 
her appearance, but he knew that her hours 
were numbered and that the dread disease that 
had fastened upon her was creeping on with 
ever increasing activity. She knew it, too, and 
smiled a grim little smile as she added: “ How 
long can I last, at this rate? ” 

“ Do not anticipate, my dear,” he answered 
gravely. “ Let us do all that may be done, 
and ” 


12 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ I must know! ” she retorted. “ I have cer- 
tain important arrangements to make that must 
not be needlessly delayed.” 

“ I can understand that, Mrs. Jones.” 

“ Then tell me frankly, how long have I to 
live? ” 

“ Perhaps a month; possibly less; but ” 

“ You are not honest with me, Doctor Ans- 
truther! What I wish to know — what I must 
know — is how soon this disease will be able to 
kill me. If we manage to defer the end some- 
what, all the better; hut the fiend must not take 
me unaware, before I am ready to resign my 
life.” 

He seated himself beside the bed and reflected. 
This was his most interesting patient; he had 
attended her constantly for more than a year 
and in this time had learned to admire not only 
her beauty of person but her “ gameness ” and 
wholesome mentality. He knew something of 
her past life and history, too, as well from her 
own lips as from common gossip, for this was 
no ordinary woman and her achievements were 
familiar to many. 

She was the daughter of Captain Bob Seaver, 
whose remarkable career was known to every 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 


13 


mining man in the West. Captain Bob was one 
of the ‘ c forty-niners ’ ’ and had made fortunes and 
lost them with marvelous regularity. He had a 
faculty for finding gold, but his speculations 
were invariably unwise, so his constant transi- 
tions from affluence to poverty, and vice versa, 
were the subject of many amusing tales, many 
no doubt grossly exaggerated. And the last 
venture of Captain Bob Seaver, before he died, 
was to buy the discredited “ Ten-Spot ” mine 
and start to develop it. 

At that time he was a widower with one 
motherless child — Antoinette — a girl of eight- 
een who had been reared partly in mining camps 
and partly at exclusive girls r schools in the East, 
according to her father’s varying fortunes. 
“ Tony ” Seaver, as she was generally called in 
those days, combined culture and refinement with 
a thorough knowledge of mining, and when her 
father passed away and left her absolute mistress 
of the tantalizing “ Ten-Spot,” she set to work 
to make the mine a success, directing her men in 
person and displaying such shrewd judgment and 
intelligence, coupled with kindly consideration 
for her assistants, that she became the idol of 
the miners, all of whom were proud to be known 


14 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


as employees of Tony Seaver’s “ Ten-Spot ” and 
would have died for their beautiful employer if 
need be. 

And the “ Ten-Spot ” made good. In five 
years Tony had garnered a million or two of 
well-earned dollars, and then she sold out and 
retired from business. Also, to the chagrin of 
an army of suitors, she married an artist named 
Jason Jones, whose talent, it was said, was not 
so great as his luck. So far, his fame rested 
on his being “ Tony Seaver’s husband.” But 
Tony’s hobby was art, and she had recognized 
real worth, she claimed, in Jason Jones’ crea- 
tions. On her honeymoon she carried her artist 
husband to Europe and with him studied the 
works of the masters in all the art centers of the 
Continent. Then, enthusiastic and eager for 
Jason’s advancement, she returned with him to 
New York and set him up in a splendid studio 
where he had every convenience and incentive to 
work. 

So much the world at large knew. It also knew 
that within three years Mrs. Antoinette Seaver 
Jones separated from her husband and, with her 
baby girl, returned West to live. The elaborate 
Jones studio was abandoned and broken up and 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 


15 


the “ promising young artist ” disappeared from 
the public eye. Mrs. Jones, a thorough business 
woman, had retained her fortune in her own 
control and personally attended to her invest- 
ments. She became noted as a liberal patron 
of the arts and a generous donor to worthy 
charities. In spite of her youth, wealth, and 
beauty, she had no desire to shine in society 
and lived a somewhat secluded life in luxurious 
family hotels, attending with much solicitude to 
the training and education of her daughter Alora. 

At first she had made Denver her home, but 
afterward migrated from one middle-west city 
to another until she came to Chicago, where she 
had now lived for nearly three years, occupying 
the most expensive suite of rooms at the very 
exclusive Hotel Voltaire. 

Alora fairly worshipped her beautiful mother 
and although Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones was 
considered essentially cold and unemotional by 
those who knew her casually, there was no doubt 
she prized her child as her dearest possession 
and lavished all the tenderness and love of which 
she was capable upon her. 

Eetrospectively, Doctor Anstruther considered 
this historical revue of his fair patient as he sat 


16 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


facing her. It seemed a most unhappy fate that 
she should be cut off in the flower of her woman- 
hood, but her case was positively hopeless, and 
she knew it and had accepted the harsh verdict 
without a murmur. Bravery had always been 
Tony Seaver’s prime characteristic. To Doctor 
Anstruther it seemed that she might as well 
know the truth which she had demanded from 
his lips. 

“ This disease is one that accelerates toward 
the end,” he said. “ Within the past few days 
we have noted its more virulent tendency. All 
we can do now is to keep you from suffering 
until — the end.” 

“ And that will be — when? ” she demanded. 

“ I think I can safely give you a week, 
but ” 

“ Then I must act at once,” she said, as he 
hesitated. “ I must, first of all, make provision 
for Alora’s future, and in this I require your 
help.” 

“ You know you may depend upon me,” he 
said simply. 

“ Please telegraph at once to my husband, 
Jason Jones, in New York.” 

The request startled him, for never before had 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 


17 


she mentioned her husband’s name in his pres- 
ence. But he asked, calmly enough: 

“ What is his address? ” 

“ Hand me that small memorandum-book,” 
pointing to the stand beside him. He obeyed, 
and as she turned the leaves slowly she said: 

“ Doctor Anstruther, you have been my good 
and faithful friend, and you ought to know and 
to understand why I am now sending for my 
husband, from whom I have been estranged for 
many years. When I first met Jason Jones he 
was a true artist and I fell in love with his art 
rather than with the man. I was ambitious that 
he should become a great painter, world-famous. 
He was very poor until he married me, and he 
had worked industriously to succeed, but as soon 
as I introduced him to a life of comfort — I 
might even add, of luxury — his ambition to 
work gradually deserted him. With his future 
provided for, as he thought, he failed to under- 
stand the necessity of devoting himself to his 
brush and palette, but preferred a life of ease — 
of laziness, if you will. So we quarreled. I tried 
to force him back to his work, but it was no 
use; my money had ruined his career. I there- 
fore lost patience and decided to abandon him, 


18 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


hoping that when he was again thrown upon his 
own resources he would earnestly resume his pro- 
fession and become a master, as I believed him 
competent to be. We were not divorced: we 
merely separated. Finding I had withdrawn his 
allowance he was glad to see me go, for my 
unmerciful scoldings had killed any love he may 
have had for me. But he loved Lory, and her 
loss was his hardest trial. I may have been as 
much to blame as he for our lack of harmony, 
but I have always acted on my impulses. 

“ PH give Jason Jones the credit for not 
whimpering,’ ’ she resumed thoughtfully, after a 
brief pause, “ nor has he ever since appealed 
to me for money. I don’t know how well he has 
succeeded, for we do not correspond, but I have 
never heard his name mentioned in the art circles 
I have frequented. He remained in New York, 
I believe, and so I chose to keep away from New 
York. A year or two ago, however, I met a man 
who had known Jason Jones and who gave me 
his address. Here it is : 1744 East Sixty-seventh 
street. Will you make a copy of it, Doctor? ” 

He nodded. 

“ What shall I say in the telegram? ” he 
asked, writing the address in his notebook. 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 


19 


“ Tell him I am dying and seek a reconcilia- 
tion before I pass away. Beg him to come to 
me at once.” 

Dr. Anstrnther jotted down the instructions 
underneath the address. 

“ You must understand,” she continued, “ that 
Jason Jones is an honorable man and in many 
ways a high-minded gentleman. I have lived 
with him as his wife and I know that he is well 
fitted to care for our child and to rear her 
properly. I have left my entire fortune to Alora, 
but I have made Jason my sole executor, and he 
is to have control, under certain restrictions, of 
all the income until Alora is eighteen. I think 
he will be glad to accept the responsibility, both 
on Alora ’s account and for the money.” 

“ Doubtless, if he has not been a success as an 
artist since your separation,” remarked the 
doctor, drily. 

“ The man I spoke of said Jason was living 
in quite modest circumstances. He said that 
although he had succeeded in selling a few paint- 
ings they had brought rather insignificant sums 
— which surprised me, as I know they must have 
possessed a degree of merit. However, I may 
be mistaken in thinking his talent exceptional. 


20 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Anyhow, my experiment in leaving him to his 
own devices seems not to have resulted as I had 
hoped, and I now am willing he should handle 
Alora’s income and live comfortably while he is 
educating her. She will probably provide for her 
father when she comes of age, but I have not 
included such a request in my will and I have 
endeavored, in case he proves inclined to neglect 
her, to require the court to appoint another 
guardian. That is, of course, merely a precau- 
tion, for I know his nature is gentle and kind, 
and he adores — or at least he used to adore — 
children. ’ 9 

The doctor sat, notebook in hand, musing. The 
matter-of-fact, businesslike way in which she 
referred to her marital relations and her assumed 
unconcern over her own dreadful fate impressed 
the good man as extraordinary. But he was 
relieved to know that little Alora, of whom he 
had grown quite fond, was to have the guardian- 
ship of a parent, and glad that the character of 
Jason Jones was above reproach. The man’s 
failure to succeed as an artist, while it might 
have been a source of chagrin to his art-loving 
wife, did not lower him to any extent in Dr. 
Anstruther’s opinion. 


DOCTOR AND PATIENT 21 

“ I suppose Alora does not remember her 
father? ” he presently remarked. 

“ She was about two years old when we 
separated.’ ’ 

“ And you say your will is already drawn? ” 

“ Judge Bemsted, my lawyer, has attended to 
it. It is now in his possession, properly signed 
and witnessed.” 

“ If Bemsted drew the will, it is doubtless 
legal and in accordance with your wishes. But 
who witnessed it? ” 

“ My nurse, Janet.” 

He glanced at the motionless figure of the 
attendant, who had remained so inert at her 
post by the window that he had quite forgotten 
her presence. She was a young woman, perhaps 
thirty years of age, and not unprepossessing in 
appearance, in spite of her modest uniform. 

Janet’s one peculiarity was her downcast eyes. 
They were good eyes, bright and intelligent, but 
she kept them veiled by their long lashes and 
drooping lids. Dr. Anstruther attached no sig- 
nificance to this trait, doubtless a habit of modest 
reserve acquired in her profession. He had 
himself recommended the woman to Mrs. Jones, 
having frequently employed her on other cases 


22 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


and found her deft, skillful and thoroughly 
reliable. Janet Orme’s signature to the will he 
regarded as satisfactory, since Judge Bernsted 
had accepted it. 

A moan from his patient suddenly aroused the 
doctor. Her face was beginning to twitch spas- 
modically with pain. In an instant Janet was 
at her side, hypodermic needle in hand, and the 
opiate was soon administered. 

“ Send the telegram,’ ’ muttered Mrs. Jones, 
still breathing hard; “ and, as you go out, 
Doctor, send Alora to me. I shall have relief in 
a few moments.” 

“ To be sure,” he said, rising. “ Lory has 
been begging to see you, and I’ll attend to the 
telegram at once.” 


CHAPTEB II 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 

The child crept softly to her mother’s bedside, 
but once there she impulsively threw her arms 
about “ Mamma Tone’s ” neck and embraced 
her so tightly that the sick woman was obliged 
to tear the little arms away. She did this ten- 
derly, though, and holding the trembling hands 
in her own kissed both of Lory’s cheeks before 
she said: 

“ I’ve news for you, dear.” 

“ Are you better, mamma? ” asked Lory, 
eagerly. 

“ Of course not,” was the calm reply. “ You 
mustn’t expect mamma ever to get well, my dar- 
ling. But that shouldn’t worry you — not too 
much, you know. One of the queer things about 
life is that it has an end, sooner or later, and in 
mamma’s case it comes to an end a little sooner 
than you and I might wish it to.” 

“ Oh, Mamma Tone! ” An agonized cry, with 
the small hands clasped tightly over her throb- 
23 


24 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


bing heart. But Tony Seaver did not flinch. 

“ The news I have will surprise you, Lory 
dear. Your father, who loved you devotedly 
when you were a baby, but whom you have 
never known till now, is coming here to see us.” 

Alora’s eyes grew big with wonder, but other 
thoughts drove even this strange news from her 
mind. 

“ I can’t let you go, Mamma Tone,” she 
wailed, sobbing; “ I can’t let you die and leave 
me all alone! ” 

The woman’s breast heaved. She was silent 
a moment and then said quietly: 

“ Even kings and queens, sweetheart, have no 
command over life and death. When it is too 
late to help it, we realize we have been born; 
when it is too late to help it, we realize we must 
die. But why complain, when it is the fate of all 
humanity? To be true to our Creator, who 
directs all things, we must bow to His will with- 
out protest. You will love your father, Lory, 
because he will love you; and he is a good man, 
and kindly, so I believe he will make your life 
as happy as I could have done.” 

“ I don’t want him; I want you , Mamma — I 
want you! ” 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 


25 


The mother sighed wearily and the alert nurse 
advanced and said to the child in grave, cold 
tones : 

“ You must control yourself, Miss Alora, if 
you wish to remain.” 

The threat quieted the little girl at once. 

“ I’ll be good, Mamma Tone/* she whispered 
softly. u Talk to me, and tell me what I must 
do.** 

So the dying woman talked to her, not of her- 
self, but of Alora ’s father, and of how she would 
like her child to conduct herself while she grew 
to womanhood. She spoke of her will, and told 
Lory what it meant to her and how she had safe- 
guarded her interests as well as she was able. 
To this Lory listened intently and, although she 
still trembled at times, she had Tony Seaver’s 
blood in her veins and could be brave in spite of 
the terrors that faced her. Dimly she realized 
that her mother was suffering through the knowl- 
edge of their inevitable parting, even as Alora 
was suffering, and felt she could comfort that 
beloved mother more by controlling her grief 
bravely than by giving way to it in her mother’s 
presence. 

Meantime, Dr. Anstruther had returned to his 


26 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


» office and had written and dispatched the follow- 
ing telegram: 

“ Jason Jones, 

1744 East 67th St., 

New York City. 

Yonr wife is dying at the Hotel Voltaire 
and wishes reconciliation before she passes 
away. Come quickly, as any delay may 
prove dangerous. Notify me by wire when 
to expect you. 

Edward Anstruther, M. D.” 

He left orders that the answer be delivered to 
him at his office or residence, as soon as received, 
but the day and the night passed without a word 
from Jason Jones. Dr. Anstruther telephoned 
the telegraph office and was assured his message 
had been delivered to the party in New York, as 
otherwise they would be notified to that effect. 

Knowing Mrs. Jones ’ dangerous condition, the 
good doctor was worried, but the following morn- 
ing brought the delayed answer : 

“ If necessary for me to come, you must 
send money for expenses.” 

It was signed “ Jason Jones ” and its 
tone and its demand annoyed Dr. Anstruther 
exceedingly. 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 


27 


“ Confound the fellow! ” he exclaimed. “ Any 
decent man would have borrowed the money, or 
even pawned his watch and jewelry, to get to a 
dying wife who calls for him. Either Mrs. Jones 
is mistaken in her husband’s kindly character or 
— well, he may have changed since last she knew 
him. ’ ’ 

He did not hesitate, however, to go to the 
office and send money by telegraph to Jason 
Jones, furnishing the required sum from his own 
pocket rather than allow Antoinette to see her 
husband’s telegram. He even sent more than 
was necessary, muttering to himself: “ The poor 
devil may have some bills to settle before he can 
get away, and in any event she must not be dis- 
appointed because her impecunious husband lacks 
a few dollars. I fancy the poor artist will be 
amazed to find himself suddenly raised from pov- 
erty to affluence, for little Lory’s income will be 
enormous and he will have seven years, at least, 
to enjoy it unrestrained. I hope,” he added 
thoughtfully, as he drove back to his office, * ‘ that 
Mrs. Jones has made no error in her judgment 
of this man, for it is considerable power to place 
in anyone’s hands and Alora is such a dear that 
I want her properly taken care of.” 


28 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


When he made his next visit to his patient he 
said in answer to her questioning look : 

“ Mr. Jones will be here to-morrow, I think. 
He will notify me of his arrival and I will be here 
to meet him. I believe it will be advisable for me 
to see him first, you know, in order to — eh — eh 
— to post him a bit,” he added, meaningly. 

“ Yes,” she replied, “ I fear it will be some- 
thing of a shock to Jason. Even though we have 
practically been strangers for years, he is sure 
to be grieved and sympathetic. But do not 
bore him with particulars, Doctor. Send him to 
me as soon as you have prepared him for the 
interview. ’ * 


CHAPTER HI 


aloba's fatheb 

A man slouched into the lofty foyer of the 
Hotel Voltaire and paused uncertainly, as if 
awed by the splendor of the place. A boy in 
uniform hastened to relieve him of his hand 
baggage, which consisted of a u roll-me-up ” or 
“ carryall ” of brown canvas, strapped around 
the middle, such as one often sees in traveling 
on the Continent. It seemed a much used and 
abused affair and painted upon the ends were 
the dimmed initials: “ J. J.” 

The man was plainly dressed. His clothing 
was of the cheap, ready-made variety, worn 
nearly to shabbiness and matched by a gray 
flannel shirt with a flowing black tie, knotted 
at the throat, and a soft gray hat that was a 
bit weatherstained. His shoes were shabby and 
unshined. His whole appearance was out of 
keeping with the palatial hotel he had entered. 

Without relinquishing his baggage to the boy 
he asked sharply: 


29 


30 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

“ Is Dr. Anstruther here? ” 

But now Dr. Anstruther, who had been impa- 
tiently waiting, espied the arrival and after a 
glance at the initials on the traveling-roll said 
in hesitating tones: 

“ Mr. Jason Jones? ” 

“ Yes. You must be the doctor who tele- 
graphed me.” 

‘ 6 I am Doctor Anstruther.” 

“ All right. Where ’s my wife? ” 

There was no especial anxiety in his tones, 
which were slow and distinct and a trifle sharp. 
He seemed ill at ease and looked around the 
foyer again, as if fearing he had entered the 
wrong place. 

“ I will lead you to her presently,” replied 
the physician gravely; “ but first, sir, I must 
acquaint you with her condition, which is serious. 
I have engaged a room for you here and if you 
will please register we will go there together and 
talk undisturbed.” 

“ All right,” said Jason Jones. He registered 
at the desk and then turned and announced: 
“ I’m ready. Go ahead.” 

Those present in the foyer cast curious glances 
at the stranger as he passed them and followed 


AL ORA'S FATHER 


31 


Dr. Anstruther to the elevator. The boy accom- 
panied them, now carrying the roll of baggage. 
The grandeur of the room they entered, which 
was convenient to the suite of Mrs. Jones, seemed 
to astonish the artist, although it was as simply 
furnished as any the great hotel contained. How- 
ever, he made no remark but removed his hat, 
seated himself, and looked inquiringly at the 
physician. 

“ Mrs. Jones,’ ’ began Dr. Anstruther, “ is 
really dying. I cannot say how long she may 
survive, but it is a matter of days — perhaps 
hours. Her greatest anxiety at present is to be 
reconciled with you, whom she has not seen or 
even communicated with for years.” 

“ Did she say that? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And she wants to be reconciled? ” 

“ She does.” 

“ Rather a queer notion, that,” remarked Mr. 
Jones, musingly. 

“ Very natural, I think, under the circum- 
stances,” stiffly replied the doctor. “She has 
every confidence in you and admires your char- 
acter exceedingly, although it was her desire 
that you live apart.” 


32 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


The man’s stolid countenance relaxed in a grin 
— a somewhat scornful and unbelieving expres- 
sion — but he did not speak. He was not a very 
tall man; he was thin of figure and hardened of 
muscle; his head was bald in front, giving him 
the appearance of a high forehead, and the hair 
at the back and around the ears was beginning 
to gray. His eyes were light blue; his nose was 
shapely and his jaws prominent and tightly set 
in repose. His age was about forty. 

“ Mrs. Jones,” continued the doctor, “ knows 
that you are due to arrive at this time and is 
eagerly counting the minutes; not that you are 
so dear to her,” he asserted in retaliation for 
the sneer upon his hearer’s lips, “ but because 
she has important business matters to arrange 
with you before she passes away.” 

“ Business matters! ” 

“ So she has told me. I believe,” he said, 
after a brief period of hesitation, during which 
he considered how best to handle this peculiar 
artist, “ that I will allow you to see your wife 
at once, that you may learn her plans from her 
own lips.” 

Indeed, he had already decided that Jason 
Jones must have changed materially, and for 


ALORA’S FATHER 


33 


the worse, since Antoinette Seaver had known 
him. Perhaps, when she had talked with the 
man, she would revise her opinion of him and 
make other disposition of her finances and the 
guardianship of her child. In that case it would 
not be well for him to give her husband any 
inkling of her present plans. Having reached 
this conclusion, Dr. Anstruther rose abruptly 
and said: “ Come with me, please.” 

Jason Jones made no demur. Without remark 
he followed his conductor into the hallway and 
to the entrance to the suite occupied by his 
wife. The governess had been instructed to take 
Alora out for a ride; there was no one in the 
little reception room. Here, however, the doctor 
halted, and pointing to the door at the further 
end of the passage he said: 

“ That is your wife’s sick chamber. Please 
enter quietly and remember the danger of 
exciting Mrs. Jones unduly. Be gentle, and — 
considerate.” 

Jason Jones nodded. A moment he regarded 
the door with curious intentness, savoring of 
reluctance. Then he slowly advanced, opened it 
and went in, closing the door softly behind him. 

Dr. Anstruther seated himself in the reception 


34 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

room. The artist puzzled him greatly, although 
he prided himself — through long professional 
experience — on being able to read human nature 
with some accuracy. This summons to his dying 
wife ought to seem the most natural thing in the 
world to Jason Jones, yet the man appeared 
dazed and even bewildered by the event, and 
while he had once lived in luxurious surroundings 
his later experiences must have been so wholly 
different that the splendor of his wife’s mode of 
living quite embarrassed him. Yes, the contrast 
was sharp, it must be admitted; the man had 
formerly shared Tony Seaver’s immense wealth; 
he had enjoyed the handsomest studio in New 
York; and then — back to poverty, to drudgery, 
to a struggle for mere food and clothing! Years 
of hardship were likely to have had a decided 
effect upon the character of a man who was 
doubtless weak in the beginning; it would make 
him hard, and bitter, and 

A shrill scream startled him. It came from 
the sick chamber and was echoed by another cry 
— hoarse and terrified — in a man’s voice. 

Dr. Anstruther sprang to his feet and hurried 
into the patient’s bedchamber. 

“ The woman’s dead, Doctor,” cried Jason 


ALORA’S FATHER 


35 


Jones, standing in the middle of the room. “ My 
God — she ’s dead ! ’ ’ 

The physician hastened to the bedside, where 
Janet Orme, the nurse, was bending over the 
still form. Pushing her away, Dr. Anstruther 
made a hurried examination. 

It was true ; the woman was dead. At the very 
moment of reunion with the husband from whom 
she had so long been parted, she had passed on 
to another life, leaving reconciliation in abeyance. 

Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones lay beneath her 
lace coverlid with features contorted, mouth half 
open and eyes staring wildly. A paroxysm of 
pain had carried her off, the good doctor well 
knew; the pain, and the excitement of the 
moment. Very tenderly he bent down and closed 
the eyes and pressed the lips together. He 
smoothed the lines from the cheeks, so that the 
face became more natural in appearance. Then, 
with a sigh — for he had become fond of this 
brave, beautiful patient — he turned away to find 
Jason Jones and the nurse Janet confronting one 
another in tense attitudes. The man stared won- 
deringly into the nurse’s face; Janet, her eyes 
now unveiled, returned the stare with an expres- 
sion that Dr. Anstruther could not fathom. 


36 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


They seemed to feel the doctor’s observation, 
for Janet turned her back abruptly, while the 
man swung around and tiptoed hastily from the 
room. 

Dr. Aoistruther looked at the nurse reflectively. 

“ Who was it that screamed? Was it you, or 
Mrs. Jones? ” he asked. 

She hesitated a moment. 

“ It was I,” she replied. “ I saw her face and 
knew that — that the end had come.” 

It was a lie, and the nurse knew that the 
shrewd doctor recognized it as a lie. But he 
made no comment and with a last regretful look 
toward the bed he followed Jason Jones out. 


CHAPTER IV 


aloka's new life 

Time sears all heart wounds. The scars 
remain, perhaps, but as the clock ticks on the 
ache is stilled and the soreness finally passes 
away. 

At first Alora was heart-broken over her 
mother’s loss. She lived in a sort of stupor for 
weeks after the funeral. Her father’s presence 
she accepted without comment or emotion, for it 
had all been arranged by ‘ ‘ Mamma Tone. ’ ’ She 
did not consider, in those first weeks, whether 
she cared for her newly found father or not. 
Her mother’s statement that he was a “ good 
man ” and would love Alora dearly was taken 
by the child as a matter of fact, while her 
mother’s injunction to love him and confide in 
him in her stead was for the present ignored. 

Indeed, during those first weeks Lory had no 
fault to find with her new protector, for she saw 
little of him. Jason Jones retained his room at 
the hotel and allowed Alora and her governess 
37 


38 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

to inhabit the handsome suite her mother had 
occupied, although they were much too small for 
the big apartments. However, Lory would have 
felt uncomfortable, just then, in any other place. 
Her mother’s chamber was closed and the cur- 
tains drawn, but every night before she retired 
to her own little room the child would steal in, 
in the dark, and feel her way to the empty bed 
and kiss the pillow on which her dear mother’s 
head had rested. Miss Gorham, the governess, 
was aware of these evening excursions, but 
offered no objection. Indeed, the woman objected 
to nothing that did not interfere with her own 
personal comfort and convenience. Under the 
eyes of Mrs. Jones she had been prim and duti- 
ful, but there was no one to chide her now, how- 
ever neglectful she chose to be, and it was true 
that during these days the little girl required 
no particular care. Alora resumed her morning 
studies with meekness a week after her mother 
had been laid away, and in the afternoons she 
rode or walked with Miss Gorham or received the 
callers who came to “ console poor Antoinette 
Seaver Jones’ child.” 

Despite her haughty reserve, Mrs. Antoinette 
Seaver Jones had accumulated a wide circle of 


ALORA’S NEW LIFE 


39 


acquaintances — if not friends — who sincerely 
mourned her untimely death and would have been 
glad to befriend her little girl were such services 
needed. But it was known that Alora’s father 
had now appeared to guard her welfare and there 
was “ so much money in the Jones family ” that 
no financial aid was required; therefore, these 
acquaintances could only call to see Alora and 
profess their friendship. 

The child listened gravely to their stilted 
praises of her mother and accepted their plati- 
tudes in good faith. It was indeed comforting 
to hear so many nice things said of her loved one. 

Her father was never present on these occa- 
sions. He was by no means a sociable man. 
Sometimes he came in for a few minutes, in the 
morning, and sat down and stared at the girl in 
a way half curious and half speculative, and said 
little, and presently went away as quietly as he 
had come. 

The nurse, Janet Orme, left on the day that 
Mrs. Jones died, and Aiora had almost forgotten 
the young woman when one afternoon she came 
to see her. Janet no longer wore her nurse’s 
uniform but was dressed in ultra-fashionable 
apparel and to the child’s amusement affected 


40 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


the manners of a lady. She talked more with 
Miss Gorham than with the little girl and was keen 
to know what arrangements had been made for 
their future. Miss Gorham admitted that she had 
no idea of Mr. Jones’ intentions. Of course they 
could not remain long in this elaborate suite; a 
smaller one would be more satisfactory in every 
way; but Mr. Jones had not as yet mentioned 
the subject. 

A few days afterward, during one of their 
walks, Alora was surprised to see her father 
and nurse Janet riding past in a hired auto- 
mobile. The two seemed engaged in earnest 
conversation and neither noticed Alora or her 
governess. Miss Gorham snorted rather dis- 
dainfully but without remark, and Lory was not 
especially interested in the matter. 

Meantime, letters of administration had been 
issued to Jason Jones and the control of his 
wife’s — now Alora ’s — property legally placed 
in his hands. Judge Bernsted attended to all 
the necessary details and, while he did not admire 
the artist and secretly believed he was unfitted 
for the task of handling so much money, he loy- 
ally insisted that the dead woman’s wishes be 
obeyed to the letter. 


ALORA’S NEW LIFE 


41 


Dr. Anstruther had called on the attorney and 
had ventured to state his misgivings concerning 
Jason Jones, pleading that Alora was likely to 
suffer through the man’s indifference and lack of 
culture, but Judge Bemsted declared it was not 
his duty to criticise character but to see that the 
wishes of his clients were obeyed. In this case 
doubtless the man’s wife knew him more inti- 
mately than anyone else and if she trusted him, 
aware as she must be of his faults and virtues, 
it would be presumptuous for anyone to try to 
break her will or otherwise interfere with her 
carefully planned arrangements. 

But Jason Jones was improving, in a way. He 
had bought new clothes and a supply of linen, 
and although he did not wear them with the ease 
of one accustomed to modish dress they certainly 
improved his appearance. He was quiet and 
unassuming; he made no friends and few 
acquaintances; he never mentioned himself or 
his personal history and never referred to his 
wife except when forced to do so by some of 
i ‘ her meddling friends ’ ’ — well meaning people 
who sought his acquaintance to condole with him 
or perhaps to attempt to “ cultivate ” him for 
Antoinette Seaver Jones’ sake. But these found 


42 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


him so unresponsive that they soon left him 
alone. 

The legal business, even though it progressed 
smoothly, required time for consummation, so it 
was somewhat more than three months before all 
the details were complete. Alora, a sad-faced 
child with no especial interest in life, kept no 
track of time and plodded along in her morning 
studies and took her afternoon drives or walks 
in a perfunctory manner that rendered Miss 
Gorham’s duties light indeed. But all this ended 
suddenly, and Jason Jones ended it. 

He came to the rooms one morning and said 
to the governess in his abrupt way: “ Pack up.” 

“ What do yon mean, sir? ” was the startled 
query. 

“ Just what I say. Get the child’s things and 
your own ready to move out of this place by 
Saturday. Also pack the personal belongings of 
Mrs. Jones. Put them in separate trunks and 
boxes, so I can have them stored. Do you under- 
stand me? ” 

“I — I shall need assistance, ’ ’ gasped # the 
bewildered Miss Gorham. 

“ Then get a maid — or a porter — or both — 
to help you.” 


ALORA’S NEW LIFE 


43 


AJora was present and listened with awakening 
interest. A change of any sort would be pleas- 
ant, she reflected. 

“ Where are we going? ” she asked, as her 
father turned away. 

It was the one question Miss Gorham wanted 
to ask, too, but Mr. Jones left the room without 
reply. 

Three days was little enough time to gather up 
and pack the accumulation of years. The gov- 
erness knew there were many big trunks in the 
storeroom of the hotel belonging to Mrs. Jones, 
and these she ordered brought up to the rooms. 
Then she procured two maids, told them what 
and how to pack, and composedly resumed her 
reading. 

“ I am no menial / y she told Alora, with a lofty 
air of superiority; “ these persons will do their 
work properly, I’m sure.” 

On Saturday morning Mr. Jones again 
appeared. 

“ Is everything ready? ” he demanded. 

“ Ask Susan and Jane,” replied Miss Gorham. 

Susan and Jane declared everything was 
packed, even to the suit cases and traveling 
satchels. 


44 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ But where are we going? ” inquired the 
governess. 

“ You are going wherever you please,” said 
Jason Jones. “I do not require your services 
longer. ’ ’ 

“ You’re going to discharge me! ” she said, 
startled. 

“You are already discharged.” 

“ But who will look after poor Lory? Who 
will attend to her education, and to — to — her 
comforts? ” 

“ I will. Here is your money. I have paid 
you a week in advance, in lieu of notice.” 

“ A week? Pooh! I’m hired by the year,” 
asserted the woman defiantly. 

“ Have you a written contract? ” 

“ No; a verbal contract is just as good.” 

“ It won’t hold in law. Take your traps and 
go — at once.” 

The governess looked at him. He was abso- 
lutely calm and determined. Instinctively she 
knew that any protest would be unavailing. 

Alora regarded the dismissal of her governess 
with as much unconcern as her father displayed. 
Miss Gorham had been her companion for years, 
but had never won the smallest corner of the girl’s 


ALORA ’S NEW LIFE 


45 


heart. Although she was not aware of the fact, 
the woman’s constant presence and lack of inter- 
est in her had become oppressive. The child’s 
first sensation, on realizing their future separa- 
tion, was one of distinct relief. 

When Miss Gorham had gone, seeming to 
begrudge the terse “ good-bye ” she gave her 
pupil, the girl’s father quietly said: “ Come, 
Alora,” and walked away. 

She followed him to a waiting taxicab, in which 
had been heaped her hand luggage and his own, 
and they drove away from the grand hotel where 
she had lived in luxury for so long, and where 
so many indelible memories had been impressed 
upon her childish mind, with as little ado as if 
they had been transient guests. 

When the cab drew up at a railway station 
Alora asked: 

“ Are we leaving town, then, father? ” 

“ Yes,” he replied; “I am returning to New 
York.” 

She felt a slight sinking of the heart, just then, 
but it was followed by a sense of elation. The 
old life, in which her adored mother had played 
so prominent a part, was being abandoned for- 
ever, and this troubled her, she knew not why. 


46 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


But since Mamma Tone had gone away the old 
life had lost its charm and become dull and 
stupid. Lory was not sure she could be happier 
elsewhere, but her crushed and dispirited nature 
responded to the suggestion of change. It was 
interesting to have something different to look 
forward to. 

The man beside her was no more congenial 
than Gorham had been, but he was her father; 
he was the guardian selected by her dead mother, 
and in obeying his wishes she might find her 
future life more grateful than had been the 
dreadful dreary months since Mamma Tone had 
left her. 

Somehow, Jason Jones seemed uneasy in the 
presence of his daughter. During the journey to 
New York he rode most of the time in the smok- 
ing compartment, only appearing to take Alora 
to the diner for her meals. The child was equally 
uncomfortable in her father’s society and was 
well pleased to be left so much alone. 

So, with very little questioning or conversation 
on either side, father and daughter came to their 
destination and Alora found herself deposited in 
a small suite of rooms on the third floor of a 
grimy and dingy house in East Sixty-seventh 


ALOHA’S NEW LIFE 


47 


street — one of a long row of similar houses that 
were neither residences nor business establish- 
ments, but hovered between the two. There were 
several little tin signs nailed beside the entrance 
and Lory noticed that one of these read: “ Jason 
Jones. Studio. 3rd Floor.” It was an old sign, 
scarcely legible, while others beside it seemed 
bright and new, and when the girl had climbed 
laboriously up the three flights and the artist 
had unlocked the door at the head of the stairs, 
with a key which he took from his pocket, she 
found everything about the rooms she entered as 
old and faded as the sign on the door. 


CHAPTER V 


IN THE STUDIO 

The fact that it was beginning to grow dark 
prevented Alora from observing all the tawdri- 
ness of her new home and what she saw inspired 
her more with curiosity than dismay. The little 
girl had been reared from babyhood in an atmos- 
phere of luxury; through environment she had 
become an aristocrat from the top of her head 
to the tips of her toes ; this introduction to shab- 
biness was unique, nor could she yet understand 
that such surroundings were familiar to many 
who battle for existence in a big city. The very 
fact that her father’s humble flat was “ differ- 
ent ” made it far more interesting to the child 
than new apartments such as she had been accus- 
tomed to. Therefore she had no thought, at this 
time, of protest. Her own little room contained 
a small iron bed, one straight chair with a 
wooden bottom and a broken-legged dresser over 
which hung a cracked mirror. The small rag 
rug was worn threadbare. 

' 48 


IN THE STUDIO 


49 


While she stood in the doorway of this room, 
solemnly regarding it, her father said over her 
shoulder : 

4 4 Yon won’t need both those big trunks here, 
I’m sure. I’ll store them somewhere in the 
studio. Covered with drapes, they won’t be 
noticed. I can’t imagine what that woman 
packed them with.” 

44 My dresses,” replied Alora. 4 ‘ Even then, I 
left a lot at the Voltaire, for the maids to sell 
or give away. Mamma used to send them to the 
Salvation Army.” 

44 Two trunks of dresses ought to last for a 
good many years,” he remarked in a reflective 
tone. 

4 4 Oh, no indeed,” said Lory. “ Miss Gorham 
was about to engage a dressmaker for me when — 
when — you said we’d go away. I’m growing 
fast, you know, and I was to have a dozen or fif- 
teen summer frocks made, and a lot of lingerie.” 

“ Then we moved just in time to save that 
expense,” he declared, setting his stern jaws 
together. 44 There’s been a terrible waste of 
money through that woman Gorham. We’re well 
rid of her.” 

He turned away to the studio and the child 


50 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

followed him there. He turned on the electric 
lights, which were not very bright, and Alora 
took a look at the workroom and thought it 
seemed more comfortable than the other rooms 
of the flat. 

Her father began dusting and arranging half 
a dozen paintings of various sizes, mounted 
on stretchers. None was finished; some were 
scarcely begun. Lory tried to see what they 
represented. Perhaps she had inherited from 
her mother a bit of artistic instinct; if so, it 
was that which prompted her to shrug her small 
shoulders slightly and then turn away to the 
window. 

In the dimly lighted street outside a man 
drove up with the baggage. Mr. Jones had pur- 
chased for himself in Chicago a new trunk — a 
small and inexpensive one — and there were two 
big trunks and a suitcase belonging to Alora. 
After these had been carried up and placed in 
the studio — the only room that would hold them 
— her father said: 

“We will go out now and get some dinner. 
You won’t need your coat, for the restaurant is 
just around the comer .’ 9 

Alora marveled at the restaurant even more 


IN THE STUDIO 


51 


than at the studio furnishings. It looked a hun- 
dred years old and the atmosphere still retained 
the fumes of much ancient cookery. The linen 
was coarse, the plating worn from the forks and 
spoons through constant use, the dishes thick and 
clumsy and well nicked. Alora was hungry and 
she ate what her father ordered for her, although 
she decided it did not taste very nice. 

When they sat down a man from behind the 
counter approached them and bending low said 
in a quiet tone: 

“ You know, Jones, it’s to be a cash deal from 
now on.” 

“ Of course,’ ’ replied Alora ’s father, with a 
slight frown. “ Also I’ll pay you the old 
account, if you’ll make out the bill.” 

The man smiled, patted Alora ’s head — a lib- 
erty she indignantly resented — and went back 
to his desk. 

During the meal and, indeed, ever since their 
arrival in New York, Jason Jones cast frequent 
puzzled glances into the face of his little daugh- 
ter, who until now had accepted her changed 
conditions with evident indifference. But as they 
ate together in silence her small features grew 
grave and thoughtful and her father shrank from 


52 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


meeting the inquiring glances of her big eyes. 
Yet even now she made no complaint. Neither 
did she ask questions. Her look was expectant, 
however, and that was what embarrassed him. 

After the dinner they went back to the dingy 
studio, where the man lighted a pipe and sat 
opposite his small daughter, puffing uneasily. 
They were both reserved; there was an indefin- 
able barrier between them which each was begin- 
ning to recognize. Presently Alora asked to go 
to bed and he sent her to her room with a nod 
of relief. 

Next morning they had breakfast at the same 
stuffy little restaurant and afterward Alora 
unpacked some things from her trunks and put 
them in the drawers of the broken-legged dresser. 
It seemed odd to have no maid to wait upon her, 
but she was glad to have something to do. As 
she passed to and from the studio she noticed 
that her father had resumed work on a picture 
that represented two cows eating a broken pump- 
kin that lay in a cornfield. He worked slowly 
and never seemed satisfied with what he did, as 
if lacking confidence in his ability. Lory decided 
he couldn’t be blamed for that. 

The child plodded drearily along in her new 


IN THE STUDIO 


53 


life for a full week. Then she began to grow 
restless, for the place was hateful and repulsive 
to her. But now an incident occurred that gave 
her new cause for wonder. 

One day the door opened and a woman walked 
into the studio. It was Janet Orme, her mother’s 
former nurse, but what a new and astonishing 
Janet it was! Her silken gown was very “ fash- 
ionable,’ ’ somewhat too modish for good taste, 
for it was elaborately trimmed and embroidered. 
She wore considerable jewelry, including dia- 
monds; her shoes were elegant and her hose 
daintily clocked; her hat must have been a 
French milliner’s choicest creation. If good 
clothes could make Janet Orme a lady, there 
was no question of her social standing, yet even 
little Alora felt that Janet was out of her ele- 
ment— that she fell short, in some vague way, 
of being what she was ambitious to appear. 

“ So,” said the nurse, glancing around the 
rbom with frank disdain, “ this is where you 
hang out, Jason, is it? ” 

Alora ’s father confronted the woman with a 
menacing frown. 

“ What do you mean by coming here? ” he 
demanded. 


54 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

i i I had two reasons , 9 9 she answered carelessly, 
seating herself in the only easy chair the room 
contained. “ In the first place, I wanted to see 
how a rich man lives.” 

“ Well, yon see, don’t you? ” a muttering 
growl. 

“ I certainly do, and I realize you are quite 
comfortable and ought to be happy here, Jason 
— you and the millionaire heiress, your daughter 
Alora.” 

As she spoke she turned to glance sharply at 
the child, who met her look with disconcerting 
gravity. Alora ’s eyes expressed wonder, tinged 
with a haughty tolerance of an inferior that 
struck home to Janet and made her flush angrily. 

“ Your sneers,” said Jason Jones, still frown- 
ing but now speaking with composure, “ must 
indicate that you have graduated from servitude. 
I cannot admit that my mode of living is any 
of your business, Janet. In these retired but 
respectable rooms I have worked and been con- 
tented for years, until ” 

“ Until you came into your money and found 
you didn’t have to worry over your next meal,” 
she interjected. “ Well, that ought to make you 
still more content. And that reminds me of the 


IN THE STUDIO 55 

second object of my visit. I want some money.” 

“ So soon? ” 

“ Don’t try to crawfish; it was agreed yon 
should give me a check whenever I asked for it. 
I want it now, and for the full amount — every 
single penny of it! ” 

He stared at her fixedly, seeming fearful and 
uncertain how to answer. 

“ I cannot spare it all today.” 

“ Humbug! ” she snapped. “ You can and 
will spare it. I must have the money, or ’ ’ 

Her significant pause caused him to wriggle in 
his seat. 

“ You’re a miserly coward,” she declared. 
“I’m not robbing you; you will have an abun- 
dance for your needs. Why do you quarrel with 
Dame Fortune? Don’t you realize you can pay 
your rent now and eat three square meals a day, 
and not have to work and slave for them? You 
can smoke a good cigar after your dinner, instead 
of that eternal pipe, and go to a picture show 
whenever the mood strikes you. Why, man, 
you’re independent for the first time in your life, 
and the finances are as sure as shooting for a 
good seven years to come.” 

He glanced uneasily at Alora. 


56 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Owing to my dead wife’s generosity,” he 
mattered. 

Janet laughed. 

“ Of course,” said she; “ and, if you play 
your cards skillfuly, when Alora comes of age 
she will provide for you an income for the rest 
of your life. You’re in luck. And why! Just 
because you are Jason Jones and long ago mar- 
ried Antoinette Seaver and her millions and are 
now reaping your reward! So, for decency’s 
sake, don’t grumble about writing me that 
check.” 

All this was frankly said in the presence of 
Alora Jones, the heiress, of whose person and 
fortune, her father, Jason Jones, was now sole 
guardian. It was not strange that the man 
seemed annoyed and ill at ease. His scowl grew 
darker and his eyes glinted in an ugly way as he 
replied, after a brief pause: 

“ You seem to have forgotten Alora ’s require- 
ments and my duty to her.” 

“ Pooh, a child! But we’ve allowed liberally 
for her keep, I’m sure. She can’t keep servants 
and three dressmakers, it’s true, but a simple life 
is best for her. She’ll grow up a more sensible 
and competent woman by waiting on herself and 


IN THE STUDIO 


57 


living as most girls do. At her age I didn’t have 
shoes or stockings. Alora has been spoiled, and 
a hit of worldly experience will do her good.” 

6 1 She’s going to he very rich, when she comes 
into her fortune,” said Alora ’s father, “ and 
then ’ ’ 

“ And then she can do as she likes with her 
money. Just now her income is too big for her 
needs, and the best thing you can do for her is 
to teach her economy — a virtue you seem to 
possess, whether by nature or training, in a high 
degree. But I didn’t come here to argue. Give 
me that check.” 

He walked over to his little desk, sat down 
and drew a check book from his pocket. 

Alora, although she had listened intently to 
this astonishing conversation, did not quite com- 
prehend what it meant. Janet’s harsh state- 
ments bewildered her as much as did her father’s 
abject subservience to the woman. All she real- 
ized was that Janet Orme, her dead mother’s 
nurse, wanted money — Alora ’s money — and 
that her father was reluctant to give it to her 
but dared not refuse. Money was an abstract 
quality to the eleven year old child; she had 
never handled it personally and knew nothing of 


58 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


its value. If her father owed Janet some of her 
money, perhaps it was for wages, or services 
rendered her mother, and Alora was annoyed 
that he haggled about it, even though the woman 
evidently demanded more than was just. There 
was plenty of money, she believed, and it was 
undignified to argue with a servant. 

Jason Jones wrote the check and, rising, 
handed it to Janet. 

“ There/ ’ said he, “ that squares our account. 
It is what I agreed to give you, but I did not 
think you would demand it so soon. To pay it 
just now leaves me in an embarrassing position.’ ’ 

“ I don’t believe it,” she rejoined. “ You’re 
cutting coupons every month or so, and you may 
thank your stars I don’t demand a statement of 
your income. But I know you, Jason Jones, and 
you can’t hoodwink me, try as you may. You 
hid yourself in this hole and thought I wouldn’t 
know where to find you, but you’ll soon learn 
that you can’t escape my eagle eye. So take 
your medicine like a man, and thank your lucky 
stars that you’re no longer a struggling, starv- 
ing, unrecognized artist. Good-bye until I call 
again.” 

“You’re not to call again!” he objected. 


IN THE STUDIO 


59 


“ Well, weTl see. Just for the present I’m in 
no mood to quarrel with you, and you’d better 
not quarrel with me, Jason Jones. Good-bye.” 

She tucked the check into her purse and ambled 
out of the room after a supercilious nod to Alora, 
who failed to return the salutation. Jason Jones 
stood in his place, still frowning, until Janet’s 
high-heeled shoes had clattered down the two 
flights of stairs. Alora went to the window and 
looking down saw that a handsome automobile 
stood before the house, with a chauffeur and 
footman in livery. Janet entered this automobile 
and was driven away. 

Alora turned to look at her father. He was 
filling his pipe and scowling more darkly than 


ever. 


CHAPTER VI 


FLITTING 

Once more they moved suddenly, and the sec- 
ond flitting came about in this way : 

Alora stood beside the easel one morning, 
watching her father work on his picture. Not 
that she was especially interested in him or the 
picture, but there was nothing else for her to do. 
She stood with her slim legs apart, her hands 
clasped behind her, staring rather vacantly, when 
he looked up and noted her presence. 

“ Well, what do you think of it? ” he asked 
rather sharply. 

“ Of the picture? ” said Lory. 

“ Of course/ ’ 

“ I don’t like it,” she asserted, with childish 
frankness. 

“Eh? You don’t like it? Why not, girl? ” 

“Well,” she replied, her eyes narrowing criti- 
cally, “that cow’s horn isn’t on straight — the 
red cow’s left horn. And it’s the same size, all 
the way up.” 


60 


FLITTING 


61 


He laid down his palette and brush and gazed 
at his picture for a long time. The scowl came 
on his face again. Usually his face was stolid 
and expressionless, but Alora had begun to 
observe that whenever anything irritated or dis- 
turbed him he scowled, and the measure of the 
scowl indicated to what extent he was annoyed. 
When he scowled at his own unfinished picture 
Lory decided he was honest enough to agree with 
her criticism of it. 

Finally the artist took a claspknife from his 
pocket, opened the blade and deliberately slashed 
the picture from top to bottom, this way and 
that, until it was a mere mass of shreds. Then 
he kicked the stretcher into a comer and brought 
out another picture, which he placed on the easel. 

“ Well, how about that? ” he asked, looking 
hard at it himself. 

Alora was somewhat frightened at having 
caused the destruction of the cow picture. So 
she hesitated before replying: “ I— -I’d rather 
not say.” 

“It’s funny! ” he said musingly, “ but until 
now I never realized how stiff and unreal the 
daub is. Shall I finish it, Alora? ” 

“ I think so, sir,” she answered. 


62 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Again the knife slashed through the canvas and 
the remains joined the scrap-heap in the comer. 

Jason Jones was not scowling any more. 
Instead, there was a hint of a humorous expres- 
sion on his usually dull features. Only pausing 
to light his pipe, he brought out one after another 
of his canvases and after a critical look destroyed 
each and every one. 

Lory was perplexed at the mad act, for 
although her judgment told her they were not 
worth keeping, she realized that her father must 
have passed many laborious hours on them. But 
now that it had dawned on him how utterly 
inartistic his work was, in humiliation and dis- 
gust he had wiped it out of existence. With this 
thought in mind, the girl was honestly sorry for 
him. 

But Jason Jones did not seem sorry. When 
the last ruined canvas had been contemptuously 
flung into the comer he turned to the child and 
said to her in a voice so cheerful that it posi- 
tively startled her : 

“ Get your hat and let’s take a walk. An 
artist’s studio is no place for us, Lory. Doesn’t 
it seem deadly dull in here? And outside the sun 
is shining! ” 


FLITTING 


63 


The rest of the day he behaved much like a 
human being. He took the girl to the park to 
see the zoo, and bought her popcorn and peanuts 
— a wild extravagance, for him. Later in the 
day they went to a picture show and finally 
entered a down-town restaurant, quite different 
from and altogether better than the one where 
they had always before eaten, and enjoyed a 
really good dinner. When they left the restau- 
rant he was still in the restless and reckless mood 
that had dominated him and said : 

“ Suppose we go to a theatre? Won’t you like 
that better than you would returning to our poky 
rooms? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” responded Alora. 

They had seats in the gallery, but could see 
very well. Just before the curtain rose Alora 
noticed a party being seated in one of the boxes. 
The lady nearest the rail, dressed in an elaborate 
evening gown, was J anet Orme. There was 
another lady with her, conspicuous for blonde 
hair and much jewelry, and the two gentlemen 
who accompanied them kept in the background, 
as if not too proud of their company. 

Alora glanced at her father’s face and saw the 
scowl there, for he, too, had noted the box-party. 


64 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


But neither of the two made any remark and 
soon the child was fully absorbed in the play. 

As they left the theatre Janet’s party was 
entering an automobile, laughing and chatting 
gaily. Both father and daughter silently watched 
them depart, and then they took a street car and 
went home. 

“ Get to bed, girl,” said Jason Jones, when 
they had mounted the stairs. “ I’ll smoke 
another pipe, I guess.” 

When she came out of her room next morning 
she heard her father stirring in the studio. She 
went to him and was surprised to find him pack- 
ing his trunk, which he had drawn into the middle 
of the room. 

“ Now that you’re up,” said he in quite a 
cheerful tone, “ we’ll go to breakfast, and then 
I’ll help you pack your own duds. Only one 
trunk, though, girl, for the other must go into 
storage and you may see it again, some time, 
and you may not.” 

“ Are we going away? ” she inquired, hoping 
it might be true. 

“We are. JVe’re going a long way, my girl. 
Do you care? ” 

“ Of course,” said she, amazed at the question, 


FLITTING 65 

for he never considered her in the least. “ I’m 
glad. I don’t like your studio.” 

He laughed, and the laugh shocked her. She 
could not remember ever to have heard Jason 
Jones laugh before. 

“ I don’t like the place, either, girl, and that’s 
why I’m leaving it. For good, this time. I was 
a fool ever to return here. In trying to econo- 
mize, I proved extravagant.” 

Alora did not reply to that. She was eager to 
begin packing and hurried through her break- 
fast. All the things she might need on a journey 
she put into one trunk. She was not quite sure 
what she ought to take, and her father was still 
more ignorant concerning a little girl ’s wardrobe, 
but finally both trunks were packed and locked 
and then Mr. Jones called a wagon and carted 
away the extra trunk of Alora ’s and several 
boxes of his own to be deposited in a storage 
warehouse. 

She sat in the bare studio and waited for his 
return. The monotony of the past weeks, which 
had grown oppressive, was about to end and for 
this she was very grateful. For from a life of 
luxury the child had been dumped into a gloomy 
studio in the heart of a big, bustling city that 


66 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

was all unknown to her and where she had not 
a single friend or acquaintance. Her only com- 
panion had been a strange man who happened to 
be her father but displayed no affection for her, 
no spark of interest in her happiness or even 
comforts. For the first time in her life she 
lacked a maid to dress her and keep her dothes 
in order; there was no one to attend to her edu- 
cation, no one to amuse her, no one with whom 
to counsel in any difficulty. She had been some- 
what afraid of her peculiar father and her 
natural reserve, derived from her mother, had 
deepened in his society. Yesterday and this 
morning he had seemed more human, more com- 
panionable, yet Alora felt that it was due to a 
selfish elation and recognized a gulf between 
them that might never be bridged. Her father 
differed utterly from her mother in breeding, in 
intelligence, in sympathy. He was not of the 
same world; even the child could realize that. 
And yet, he was her father — all she had left to 
depend upon, to cling to. She wondered if he 
really possessed the good qualities her mother 
had attributed to him. If so, when she knew 
him better, she might learn to like him. 

He was gone a long time, it seemed, but as 


FLITTING 


67 


soon as he returned the remaining baggage was 
loaded on the wagon and sent away and then 
they left the flat and boarded a street car for 
down town. On lower Broadway Mr. Jones 
entered a bank and seemed to transact consider- 
able business. Lory saw him receive several 
papers and a lot of money. Then they went 
to a steamship office near by, where her father 
purchased tickets. ' 

Afterward they had lunch, and Jason Jones 
was still in high spirits and seemed more eager 
and excited than Alora had ever before known 
him. 

“ We’re going across the big water — to 
Europe,” he told her at luncheon, 4 4 so if there 
is anything you positively need for the trip, tell 
me what it is and I’ll buy it. No frivolities, 
though,” qualifying his generosity, “ but just 
stem necessities. And you must think quick, for 
our boat leaves at four o’clock and we’ve no 
time to waste.” 

But Alora shook her head. Once she had been 
taken by her mother to London, Paris and Borne, 
but all her wants had been attended to and it 
was so long ago — four or five years — that that 
voyage was now but a dim remembrance. 


68 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


No one noticed them when they went aboard. 
There was no one to see them off or to wish 
them “ bon voyage. ’ ’ It saddened the child to 
hear the fervent good-byes of others, for it 
emphasized her own loneliness. 

Yes, quite friendless was little Alora. She 
was going to a foreign land with no companion 
but a strange and uncongenial man whom fate 
had imposed upon her in the guise of a parent. 
As they steamed out to sea and Alora sat on 
deck and watched the receding shores of America, 
she turned to her father with the first question 
she had ventured to ask : 

“ Where are we going? To London? ” 

“ Not now,” he replied. “ This ship is bound 
for the port of Naples. I didn’t pick Naples, 
you know, but took the first ship sailing to-day. 
Having made up my mind to travel, I couldn’t 
wait,” he added, with a chuckle of glee. 
“ You’re not particular as to where we go, are 
you? ” 

“ No,” said Alora. 

“ That’s lucky,” he rejoined, “ for it wouldn’t 
have made any difference, anyhow.” 


CHAPTER VH 


MARY LOUISE INTRUDES 

It was four years later when on a sunny after- 
noon in April a carriage broke down on the 
Amalfi Road, between Positano and Sorrento, in 
Italy. A wheel crumpled up and the driver 
stopped his horses and explained to his pas- 
sengers in a jumble of mixed Italian and Eng- 
lish that he could go no farther. The passengers, 
an old gentleman of distinguished appearance 
and a young girl as fresh and lovely as a breath 
of spring, clambered out of the rickety vehicle 
and after examining the wheel admitted that 
their driver spoke truly. On one side the road 
was a steep descent to the sea; opposite, the 
hillside was masked by a trellis thick with grape- 
vines. The road curved around the mountain, so 
there was no other vista. 

“ Here’s a nice fix, Gran ’pa Jim! ” exclaimed 
the girl, with an amused laugh. “ Where are 
we, and what’s going to become of us? ” 

“ That is somewhat of a complicated problem, 

69 


70 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Mary Louise, and I can’t guess it offhand, with- 
out due reflection,” replied 4 ‘Gran ’pa Jim,” 
whom others called Colonel Hathaway. “ I 
imagine, however, that we are about three miles 
from Positano and five or six from Sorrento, 
and it’s a stiff walk, for old legs or young, in 
either direction. Besides, there’s our luggage, 
which I am loth to abandon and disinclined to 
carry. ’ ’ 

The driver interposed. 

“ Give-a me the moment, Signore — perhaps 
the hour — an’ I return to Positano for more 
carriage-wheel — some other. My Cousin L’uigi, 
he leeve in Positano, an’ L’uigi have a-many 
carriage-wheel in he’s shed. I sure, Signore, I 
getta the wheel.” 

“ That is a sensible idea,” said the old gentle- 
man. “ Make haste, my man, and we will wait 
here.” 

The driver unhitched his horses from the 
vehicle and after strapping a blanket on one of 
them for a saddle mounted it and departed. 

“ I take-a the two horse,” he explained, “ for 
one to ride-a me, an’ one for to ride-a the wheel.” 

They watched him amble away down the road 
and Mary Louise shook her head and remarked: 


MARY LOUISE INTRUDES 


71 


“ He will never make it in an hour, at that 
rate, Gran ’pa Jim, and in two hours the sun will 
have set and it will be dinner time. Already I 
feel the pangs of hunger.” 

“ Those who travel in Italy,” said her grand- 
father, “ should be prepared to accept any hap- 
pening in a spirit of resignation. A moment ago 
we were jogging merrily along toward a good 
hotel and a savory dinner, but now ” 

“ This entire carriage seems ready to fall 
apart,” declared the girl, standing in the road 
and viewing the ancient vehicle critically; “ so 
it’s a wonder something didn’t break sooner. 
Now, if we could get to the other side of that 
trellis, Gran ’pa Jim, we might find a shady spot 
to rest while our charioteer is searching for a 
new wheel.” 

4 4 There must be a gate, somewhere about,” he 
answered, eyeing the vine-clad barrier. “ Come, 
Mary Louise, let us investigate.” 

A hundred yards down the road they came to 
some rude stone steps and a wicket. The old 
gentleman lifted the wooden latch and found the 
gate unlocked. Followed by Mary Louise, he 
entered the vineyard and discovered a narrow, 
well-beaten path leading up the hillside. 


72 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Perhaps there is a house near by,” said the 
girl. “ Shall we go on, Gran ’pa Jim? ” 

“ Why not, my dear? These Italians are hos- 
pitable folk and we may get a cake and a cup 
of goat’s milk to stay our appetite.” 

So they climbed the hill, following the little 
path, and presently came upon a laborer who 
was very deliberately but methodically cultivat- 
ing the vines with a Y-shaped hoe. Seeing the 
strangers the man straightened up and, leaning 
upon his hoe, eyed them with evident suspicion. 

“ Good afternoon,” said the old gentleman in 
Italian — one of the few phrases in the language 
he had mastered. 

“ Oh, I speak the English, Signore,” replied 
the man, doffing his hat. “ I am Silvio Allegheri, 
you must know, and I live in America some 
time. ” 

“ Why, this is like meeting an old friend! ” 
exclaimed Mary Louise, winning the fellow 
instantly with her smile. “ But why did you 
leave America, Silvio? ” 

“ Because I have make my fortune there,” 
was the solemn reply. “ It is easy to make the 
fortune in America, Signorina. I am chef in the 
restaurant in Sandusky — you know Sandusky? 


MARY LOUISE INTRUDES 


73 


— most excellent I In a few years I save much 
money; then I return here an’ purchase an estate. 
My estate is three miles across the hill, yonder, 
and there is a road to it which is not much used. 
However, it is a fine estate, an’ I am rent it to 
my cousin for five hundred lira a year. Such 
good business habit I learn in America.” 

“ Why don’t you live on your estate your- 
self! ” inquired the girl. 

‘ ‘ It is not yet the time , ’ 1 answered the man, 
with a shake of his head. “ I am but fifty- two 
years alive, and while I am still so young I shall 
work for others, and save the money my estate 
brings me. When I get old and can no longer 
work for the others, then I will go to my estate 
an’ be happy.” 

“ Very sensible,” commented the old gentle- 
man. “ And whom do you work for now! ” 

“ The student Americano, Signore ; the one 
who has rented this valuable estate. I am the 
Signore Student’s valet, his gardener, and at 
times his chef. I grease his automobile, which 
is a very small chug-chug, but respectable, and 
I clean his shoes — when I can catch him with 
them oft. I am valuable to him and for three 
years he has paid me fair wages.” 


74 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

“ Is this a big estate? ” asked Mary Louise. 

“ Enormous, Signorina. It comprises three 
acres! ” 

“ And where is the house? ” 

“ Just over the hill, yonder, Signore. 

“ Does the student Americano live here all 
alone? ” 

“ With his daughter, who is the Signorina 
Alora . 7 7 

“ Oh; there is a daughter, then? And you 
say they are Americans? 77 

“ Surely, Signorina. Who else would pay the 
great price for this estate for three years? The 
land pays nothing back — a few oranges; some 
grapes, when they are cared for; a handful of 
almonds and olives. And there is a servant 
besides myself, my niece Leona, who is house- 
maid and assists the young lady.” 

“ This sounds promising,” said Mary Louise, 
turning to her grandfather. “ Suppose we go up 
to the house? Are the people at home, Silvio? 
— the Signore Student and his daughter? ” 

The man reflected, leaning on his hoe. 

“ I think they are both at the mansion, Sig- 
norina, although the student Americano may not 
yet have returned from Sorrento. The road to 


MARY LOUISE INTRUDES 


75 


the mansion is beyond the hill, on the other side 
of the estate, so I am not sure the Signore Stu- 
dent has returned. But you will find the Sig- 
norina Alora there, if you decide to venture on. 
But perhaps you are the friends of my employer 
and his daughter? ” 

“ What is his name? ” asked Colonel Hatha- 
way. 

i 1 It is Jones. The American saying is Mister 
Jason Jones, but here he is only called the Sig- 
nore Student Americano.” 

“ Why? ” asked Mary Louise. 

“ Because his occupation is reading. He does 
nothing else. Always there is a book in his hand 
and always he is thinking of the things he reads. 
He does not often speak, even to his daughter; 
he does not have friends who visit him. If you 
should call at the mansion, then you will be the 
first people who have done so for three years.” 

There was something in this report — in the 
manner of the man as well as his words — that 
caused the strangers to hesitate. The descrip- 
tion of “ the Student ” led them to suspect he 
was a recluse who might not welcome them cor- 
dially, but Mary Louise reflected that there was 
a daughter and decided that any American girl 


76 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


shut up on this three-acre “ estate ” for three 
years would he glad to meet another American 
girl. So she said abruptly: 

u Come on, Gran ’pa Jim. Let’s call. It is 
possible that Americans will have something bet- 
ter in the larder than cakes and goat’s milk.” 

The hilltop was reached sooner than they 
expected, and in a little vale was the old mansion 
— a really attractive vine-clad villa that might 
have stood a century or so. It was not very big, 
but there were numerous outbuildings which ren- 
dered the size of the house proper unimportant. 
As Mary Louise and her grandfather drew nearer 
they discovered a charming flower garden, care- 
fully tended, and were not surprised to find a 
young girl bending over a rosebush. 


CHAPTER VIII 


MARY LOUISE MEETS ALORA 

The two stood motionless a moment, looking 
at the girl, and Mary Louise marked the graceful 
figure and attractive features with real delight. 
The Signorina Alora, as the man had called her, 
was nearly her own age — fifteen, Mary Louise 
judged her to be — and her golden hair and fair 
complexion proclaimed her an American. But 
now the girPs quick ears had detected their 
presence and she looked up with a startled 
expression, half fearful and half shy, and turned 
as if to fly. But in the next moment she had 
collected herself and advanced with hesitating 
steps to meet them. 

“ Pardon our intrusion,” said Colonel Hatha- 
way, raising his hat. ‘ ‘ Our carriage broke down 
on the Amalfi road, a little while ago. and our 
driver has gone to Positano for a new wheel. 
Meantime we were exploring our surroundings 
and stumbled upon the path leading to this spot. 
Forgive the trespass, if you will, and allow me 
77 


78 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

to present my granddaughter, Mary Louise 
Burrows. I am Colonel James Hathaway, of 
New York, although we usually reside at a little 
town called Dorfield.” 

The girl’s bow was stiff and awkward. She 
blushed in an embarrassed way as she replied: 

“ I am Alora Jones, sir, and am living here 
for a time with my father, Jason Jones. We, 
also, are Americans; at least, we used to be.” 

“ Then doubtless you are yet,” responded the 
Colonel, with a smile. “ May we pay our 
respects to your father? ” 

“ He — he is not home yet,” she answered, 
more embarrassed than before. “ He went to 
Sorrento for some books, this morning, and has 
not yet returned. But perhaps he will be back 
soon,” she added, seeming to ponder the matter. 
‘ ‘ Will you not come in and — and have some 
refreshment? In my father’s absence I — I am 
glad to — welcome you.” 

She glanced shyly at Mary Louise, as if to 
implore her to forgive any seeming lack of hos- 
pitality and accept her coldly worded invitation. 
No one could look at Mary Louise without gain- 
ing confidence and the friendly smile and warm 
handclasp made Alora feel instantly that here 


MARY LOUISE MEETS ALORA 


79 


was a girl who would prove congenial under any 
circumstances. Really, it would not take them 
long to become friends, and poor Alora had no 
girl friends whatever. 

She led them into a cool and comfortable 
living room and called to Leona to fetch tea and 
biscuits. 

“We are entirely shut in, here,” she explained. 
“ It seems to me worse than a convent, for 
there I would see other girls while here I see 
no one but the servants — and my father,” as 
an afterthought, “ year in and year out.” 

“ It’s a pretty place,” declared Mary Louise 
cheerfully. 

“ Rut it’s an awfully dreary place, too, and 
sometimes I feel that I’d like to run away — if 
I knew where to go,” said Alora frankly. 

“ You have lived here three years? ” asked 
Colonel Hathaway. 

“ Yes. We left New York more than four 
years ago and traveled a year in different 
places, always stopping at the little towns, where 
there is not much to interest one. Then my 
father found this place and rented it, and here 
we’ve stayed — I can’t say 4 lived ’ — ever since. 
I get along pretty well in the daytime, with my 


80 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


flowers and the chickens to tend, but the even- 
ings are horribly lonely. Sometimes I feel that 
I shall go mad.” 

Mary Louise marked her wild look and excited 
manner and her heart went out in sympathy to 
the lonely girl. Colonel Hathaway, too, intui- 
tively recognized Alora’s plaint as a human cry 
for help, and did not need to guess the explana- 
tion. The man in the vineyard had called her 
father “ the Student ” and said he was a 
reserved man and never was seen without a book 
in his hand. This would mean that he was not 
companionable and Alora’s protest plainly indi- 
cated that her father devoted small time, if any, 
to the cultivation of his daughter’s society. 

“ I suppose,” remarked the old gentleman, 
“ that Mr. Jones is so immersed in his studies 
that he forgets his daughter lacks society and 
amusement.” 

Mary Louise caught the slight, scornful smile 
that for a moment curled Alora’s lips. But the 
girl replied very seriously: 

“ My father dislikes society. I believe he 
would be quite content to live in this little 
cooped-up place forever and see no one but the 
servants, to whom he seldom speaks. Also, he 


MARY LOUISE MEETS ALORA 


81 


ignores me, and I am glad lie does. But before 
my mother died,” her voice breaking a little, 
“ I was greatly loved and petted, and I can’t get 
used to the change. I ought not to say this to 
strangers, I know, but I am very lonely and 
unhappy because — because my father is so dif- 
ferent from what my mother was.” 

Mary Louise was holding her trembling hand 
now and stroking it sympathetically. 

“ Tell us about your mother,” she said softly. 
“ Is it long since you lost her? ” 

“ More than four years,” returned Alora. “ I 
was her constant companion and she taught me 
to love art and music and such things, for art 
was her hobby. I did not know my father in 
those days, you see, for — for — they did not live 
together. But in her last illness mamma sent 
for him and made him my guardian. My mother 
said that my father would love me, but she must 
have misjudged him.” 

Colonel Hathaway had listened with interest. 

“ Tell me your mother’s name,” said he. 

“ She was Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones, 
and ” 

“ Indeed! ” exclaimed the Colonel. “ Why, I 
knew Antoinette Seaver before she married, and 


82 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

a more beautiful and cultured woman I have 
never met. Her father, Captain Seaver, was 
my friend, and I met his daughter several times, 
both at his mining camp and in the city. So you 
see, my dear, we must be friends.” 

Alora’s eyes fairly glistened with delight and 
Mary Louise was as pleased as she was surprised. 

“ Of course we’re friends! ” she cried, press- 
ing the girl’s hand, “ and isn’t it queer we have 
come together in this singular manner? In a 
foreign country ! And just because our carriage- 
wheel happened to break.” 

“ I thought your mother married an artist,” 
said Mary Louise’s grandfather, reflectively. 

“ She did. At least, she thought Jason Jones 
was an artist,” answered Alora with bitter 
emphasis. “ But he was, in fact, a mere dauber. 
He became discouraged in his attempts to paint 
and soon after he took me to New York he 
destroyed all his work — really, it was dreadful ! 
— and since then he has never touched a brush. ’ ’ 

“ That is strange,” mused the Colonel. “ I 
once saw a landscape by Jason Jones that was 
considered a fine conception, skillfully executed. 
That was the opinion of so good a judge as 
Captain Seaver himself. Therefore, for some 


MARY LOUISE MEETS ALORA 83 

reason the man’s genius must have forsaken 
him.” 

“ I think that is true,” agreed Alora, “ for 
my mother’s estimate of art was undoubtedly 
correct. I have read somewhere that discourage- 
ment sometimes destroys one’s talent, though in 
after years, with proper impulse, it may return 
with added strength. In my father’s case,” she 
explained, ‘ 6 he was not able to sell his work — 
and no wonder. So now he does nothing at all 
but read, and even that doesn’t seem to amuse 
him much.” 

The Colonel had now remembered that 
Antoinette Seaver Jones was a woman of great 
wealth, and therefore her daughter must be an 
heiress. What a shame to keep the girl hidden 
in this out-of-the-way place, when she should be 
preparing to assume an important position in 
the world. 

“ May I ask your age, my dear? ” he said. 

“ I am fifteen, sir,” replied Alora. 

“ And your father is the guardian of your 
fortune? ’* 

“Yes; by my mother’s wish.” 

“ I suppose you are receiving proper instruc- 
tion? ” 


84 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ None at all, sir. Since I have been in my 
father's care I have had no instruction whatever. 
That isn't right, is it? " 

“ What isn't right? " demanded a gruff voice, 
and all three turned to find Jason Jones standing 
in the doorway. 


CHAPTER IX 


MARY LOUISE SCENTS A MYSTERY 

Colonel Hathaway instantly rose. 

“ I beg your pardon,” said he. “ I am Colonel 
James Hathaway, an American, and this is my 
granddaughter, Mary Louise Burrows. Our car- 
riage met with an accident on the main road 
below and we wandered in here while waiting 
for repairs and chanced to meet your daughter. 
You are Mr. Jones, I believe? ” 

He nodded, still standing in his place and 
regarding his visitors with unconcealed suspi- 
cion. Under his arm he held several books. 

“ Who informed you that I was living here? ” 
he demanded. 

“ I was wholly unaware of the fact,” said 
the Colonel, stiffly. “ I did not know you were 
in Italy. I did not know such an important 
person existed, strange to say, although I can 
remember that an artist named Jason Jones 
once married Antoinette Seaver, the daughter 
of my old friend Captain Robert Seaver.” 

85 


86 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Oh, you remember that, do you? ” 

“ This is the first time I have had the distin- 
guished honor of meeting you, sir, and I trust 
it will be the last time.” 

“ That’s all right,” said Jason Jones, more 
cordially. “ I can’t see that it’s any of my 
affair, either way.” 

“ We have been making the acquaintance of 
Tony Seaver’s daughter, Miss Alora Jones, in 
your absence. But we will not intrude farther, 
Mr. Jones. Come, Mary Louise.” 

“ Oh, don’t go!” pleaded Alora, catching 
Mary Louise’s arm. And just then Leona 
entered with the tea and biscuits, 

“ Sit down, man,” said Jason Jones in a less 
aggressive tone. “I’ve no objection to your 
coming here, under the circumstances, and you 
are our first visitors in three years. That’s 
often enough, but now that you are here, make 
yourself at home. What’s happening over in 
America? Have you been there lately? ” 

He laid his books on a table and sat down. 
But after that one speech, which he perhaps 
considered conciliatory, he remained glum and 
allowed the others to do the talking. 

Colonel Hathaway had stayed because he noted 


MARY LOUISE SCENTS A MYSTERY 87 


the pleading look in Mary Louise’s eyes. He 
was himself interested in Alora and indignant 
over her evident neglect. For her sake he would 
hear the insolence of his host, an insolence he 
recognized as characteristic of the man. 

Alora, in her father’s presence, lost her fluent 
speech and no longer dared mention personal 
matters to her guests. Both Mary Louise and 
her grandfather tried to lead Alora and Jason 
Jones to speak of themselves — of their life and 
future plans — but the man evaded direct 
answers and the girl had suddenly become silent 
and reserved. 

Finally, however, Mary Louise had an idea. 

“ We are bound for Sorrento,” said she, 
“ where we intend to stay a week at the Hotel 
Vittoria. Will you let Alora come to us for 
over Sunday, as our guest? We will drive here 
and get her the day after to-morrow — that’s 
Saturday, you know — and fetch her home on 
Monday. ’ ’ 

“ No,” said Jason Jones. 

“ Oh, why not, father? ” pleaded the girl. 

“ You’ve no fit clothes. I don’t want you 
hanging around Sorrento,” he replied. 

“ It will be a nice change for your daughter 


88 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


and it will give us much pleasure to entertain 
her, ’ ’ said Mary Louise. 

1 1 It’s a capital idea,” declared the Colonel, 
positively, and looking the other man straight 
in the eye he added *, “ I am sure you will with- 
draw your objections, Mr. Jones.” 

The man dropped his eyes, frowning. But 
presently he said to Alora: 

“ Go, if you want to. But keep out of the 
town. Don’t leave the hotel grounds.” 

“ Why not? ” asked his daughter in a defiant 
tone. 

“ It’s not safe. I know Sorrento, and these 
rascally Italians would be glad to steal you, if 
they had the chance, and then blackmail me for 
a ransom.” 

Mary Louise laughed. 

“ What a fine adventure that would be! ” she 
exclaimed. “ But we will promise to guard 
Alora and keep her from the clutches of the 
bandits. I didn’t know there were any left in 
Italy.” 

“ To get rid of them you’d have to depopulate 
the country,” said Jason Jones. “ It is no 
laughing matter, young woman, and — my daugh- 
ter is somewhat valuable.” 


CHAPTER X 


MERE SPECULATION 

The driver returned with the wheel. It fitted 
the axle but was some two or three inches larger 
in diameter than the other rear wheel and, more- 
over, it was flat on one side, so that when they 
started to conclude their journey the motion of 
the carriage was something startling — a “ rock- 
a-bye baby ride ” Mary Louise called it. 

But the wheels turned and the carriage pro- 
gressed and when they were well on their way 
the girl said: 

“ What do you think of that man, Gran ’pa 
Jim? ” 

“ Do you mean Alora’s father, Jason Jones? ” 

‘ ‘ Yes, of course.” 

“ I am surprised at two things,” said the old 
Colonel. u First, it is curious that Tony Seaver, 
a rarely cultured woman, should have married 
such a man, and again it is amazing that she 
should have confided her daughter and her for- 
tune to his care.” 


00 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Do yon know,” observed Mary Louise, slid- 
ing closer to him and dropping her voice, 
although there was absolutely no chance of being 
overheard, “ I scent a mystery in that family, 
Gran ’pa Jim! ” 

“ That seems to be one of your regular diver- 
sions — to scent mysteries,” he replied. “ And 
usually, my dear, the suspicion is unwarranted. 
The most commonplace people frequently impress 
you with the idea that they are other than what 
they seem, are leading double lives, or are 
endeavoring to conceal some irregularity of con- 
duct. You’ve a faculty of reading the natures 
and characteristics of strangers by studying their 
eyes, their facial expressions and their oddities 
of demeanor, which is interesting psychologically, 
but too often ” 

“ You are unjust, Gran ’pa! ” declared Mary 
Louise indignantly. “ Didn’t you yourself say 
there are two curious and surprising things about 
this man Jones? ” 

“Not exactly. I said it was curious and aston- 
ishing that Antoinette Seaver should have trusted 
so fully a man whq impresses me as a churl. 
His own child, little Alora, appears to dislike 
and even to despise him, and ” 


MERE SPECULATION 


91 


“ There! ” cried Mary Louise. “I’m vindi- 
cated. Your observations fully justify my re- 
mark that there’s a mystery in that family. 
Did you notice the books he brought home and 
laid upon the table? ” 

“ No,” said Colonel Hathaway, rather bewil- 
dered. 

“ They were novels by Marie Correlli, H. G-. 
Wells and 0. Henry. A student? Then a 
student of modem novels, a man who reads and 
reads to keep his mind from dwelling on past 
history. He is a disappointed artist, to begin 
with.” 

“ That is certainly odd,” rejoined the old 
gentleman, reflectively. “ The one picture I ever 
saw by Jason Jones was certainly good. I 
remember that once when I was lunching with 
Bob Seaver — that was Antoinette’s father, you 
know — he told me his daughter was interested 
in a young artist of exceptional talent, and he 
took me to a gallery to show me what this man 
could do. I am not an art critic, as you are 
aware, my dear, but this landscape of Jason 
Jones appealed to me as delightful. Captain 
Bob knew art, and so did Antoinette, so it is 
evident that Jones could paint, but for some 


92 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


reason became dissatisfied with his work and 
abandoned it. Perhaps his ambition was too 
lofty for human skill to realize, yet nothing less 
would content him.” 

Mary Louise sat silent for a while. Then she 
asked : 

“ Did Jason Jones impress you as a man 
capable of a great ambition? Would you guess 
him an artist who had once accomplished admira- 
ble things? ” 

“ Artists are always peculiar, ’ ’ stated her 
grandfather. “ They must be temperamental in 
order to be artists, and temperaments differ 
widely. Had I not known something of Jason 
Jones’ history I might have felt, on making his 
acquaintance to-day, that he is not an ordinary 
man. For, gruff and churlish though he proved, 
it is undeniable that he has selected a charming 
and retired spot in which to live ’ ’ 

c 1 Or to hide,” she interrupted. 

“ Or that, with considerable wealth at his 
command, he lives simply and unostentatiously, 
enjoying nature’s choice gifts and content with 
the simple life he leads, with only the society of 
his young daughter.” 

“ Whom he neglects and refuses to educate 


MERE SPECULATION 


93 


properly,’ ’ declared the girl. “ What makes you 
think he is wealthy? ” 

‘ i I know that Antoinette made millions, after 
her father died, from the mines. By current 
report she retired and invested her money wisely, 
in sound securities, which accords with her excel- 
lent business reputation. Her daughter not being 
of age — let me see: she must have been but 
eleven when her mother passed away — there 
would be a guardian appointed for the heiress, 
and Alora told us that it was her mother’s wish 
that her father act as her guardian. So the con- 
clusion is evident that Mr. Jones has a large 
income at his command.” 

“ All the more reason he should be generous, 
but he isn’t spending much of it,” said Mary 
Louise. 

“ No; he is probably living simply in order 
that his daughter’s fortune may increase during 
the years of her minority. That is a point in 
his favor, you must admit.” 

“ Nevertheless,” asserted the young girl, “ I 
think there is something wrong in the Jones 
family. It isn’t due to Alora; she’s a dear little 
thing, wild and untamed but very lovable, I’m 
sure; so the fault must lie with her boorish 


94 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


father. Allowing that once he was a big man, 
something has mysteriously soured him and ren- 
dered his life hateful not only to himself but 
to all around him.” 

“ Look, Mary Louise; we’re getting into Sor- 
rento,” said the Colonel. “ Here the road 
leaves the sea and crosses the plateau to the 
town. You’ll like Sorrento, I’m sure, for it is 
one of the quaintest places in old Italy — and 
the hotel is really comfortable.” 


CHAPTER XI 


ALORA SPEAKS FRANKLY 

On Saturday forenoon the Colonel engaged 
a carriage — a substantial one, this time — and 
with Mary Louise drove to Jason Jones’ villa, 
so that Alora might return with them in time 
for lunch. They did not see the artist, who was 
somewhere about the grounds but kept out of 
view; but Alora was ready and waiting, her 
cheeks flushed and her eyes alight, and she 
slipped her foreign little straw satchel in the 
carriage and then quickly followed it, as if eager 
to be off. 

“ Father is rather disagreeable this morning,” 
she asserted in a sharp voice, when they were 
on the highway to Sorrento. “ He repented his 
decision to let me go with you and almost for- 
bade me. But I rebelled, and ” she paused; 

“ I have found that when I assert myself I can 
usually win my way, for father is a coward at 
heart.” 

It pained Mary Louise to hear so unfilial a 

95 


96 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


speech from the lips of a young girl. Colonel 
Hathaway’s face showed that he, too, considered 
it unmannerly to criticise a parent in the pres- 
ence of strangers. But both reflected that 
Alora’s life and environments were unenviable, 
and that she had lacked, in these later years at 
least, the careful training due one in her station 
in society. So they deftly changed the subject 
and led the girl to speak of Italy and its delight- 
ful scenery and romantic history. Alora knew 
little of the country outside of the Sorrento 
peninsula, but her appreciation of nature was 
artistic and innately true and she talked well 
and interestingly of the surrounding country 
and the quaint and amusing customs of its 
inhabitants. 

“ How long do you expect to remain here? ” 
asked Mary Louise. 

“ I’ve no idea,” was the reply. “ Father 
seems entirely satisfied with our quarters, for 
he has no ambition in life beyond eating three 
simple meals a day, sleeping from nine at night 
until nine in the morning and reading all the 
romances he is able to procure. He corresponds 
with no one save his banker in America and 
sees no one but the servants and me. But to me 


ALORA SPEAKS FRANKLY 


97 


the monotony of onr existence is fast becoming 
unbearable and I often wonder if I can stand it 
for three years longer — until I’m eighteen. 
Then I shall be my own mistress and entitled 
to handle my own money, and you may rest 
assured I shall make up for lost time.” 

They let that remark pass, also, but later in 
the afternoon, when luncheon was over and the 
two girls were wandering in the lovely gardens 
of the Hotel Vittoria, while the Colonel indulged 
in an afternoon siesta, Mary Louise led Alora to 
speak freely of her past life. 

“ My grandfather says that your mother must 
have left you a good deal of money,” she 
remarked. 

“ Yes; mamma told me it was a large fortune 
and that I must guard it wisely and use it 
generously to help others less favored,” replied 
Alora thoughtfully. 

“ And she left it all in your father’s keeping? ” 

“ Not the principal. That is all invested, and 
thank goodness my father cannot touch it in any 
way. But the income is paid to him regularly, 
and he may do as he pleases with it. I am sure 
mamma expected I would have every reasonable 
wish gratified, and be taught every womanly 


98 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


accomplishment; hut I’m treated as a mere 
dependent. I’m almost destitute of proper cloth- 
ing — really, Mary Louise, this is the best dress 
I possess! — and I’ve been obliged to educate 
myself, making a rather poor job of it, I fear. 
I read the best of father’s books, when he is 
done with them, and note carefully the manner 
in which the characters express themselves and 
how they conduct themselves in society as well 
as in worldly contact. I do not wish to be wholly 
gauchS when I come into my kingdom, you see, 
and the books are my only salvation. I don’t 
care much for the stories, but some of the 
good writers are safe guides to follow in the 
matter of dialogue and deportment. Fortunately, 
father’s books are all in English. He doesn’t 
understand much Italian, although I have learned 
to speak the language like a native — like our 
native servants, you know.” 

Mary Louise reflected on this confession. 

“I’m afraid, Alora dear, that modern novels 
are not prone to teach morality, or to develop 
a girl’s finer intuitions,” she gaid gravely. “ I 
think you express yourself very well — better 
than I do, indeed — but you need association with 
those who can convey to you the right principles 


ALORA SPEAKS FRANKLY 


99 


of thought and thus encourage your mental 
development. Culture and refinement seem to 
come more from association than from books, 
although there is an innate tendency in all well- 
born people to acquire them spontaneously. But 
there! you’ll accuse me of preaching and, after 
all, I think you’ve done just splendidly under 
rather trying circumstances.” 

“ You don’t know how trying they are,” de- 
clared Alora, with a sigh. “ Father and I are 
wholly uncongenial and we fight on the slightest 
provocation. This morning our trouble was over 
money. I wanted a little to take with me, for 
my purse hasn’t a lira in it; hut, no! not a 
centesimo would he give up. He insisted that 
if I was to he your guest you would pay all 
expenses. ’ ’ 

“ Of course,” said Mary Louise. “ But what 
does he do with all that big income? Is he 
saving it for you? ” 

“ No, indeed! he’s saving it for himself. 
Mamma told me, the last time I saw her before 
she died, that if father was good to me, and kind 
and loving, I could provide for him in some way 
after I came into my money. She said she 
would leave the manner of it to my judgment. 


100 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


But lie isn’t kind, or loving, or good, and lie 
knows very well that when I’m of age he’ll never 
see another cent of my money. So now he’s 
hoarding my income for future use.” 

“ Isn’t it strange that your mother should 
have trusted him so fully? ’’ asked Mary Louise. 

“ Yes, it does seem strange. I remember her 
saying that he loved luxury and all the comforts 
that money will buy, and so she wanted him to 
have this income to spend, because he was my 
father and because she felt she had ruined his 
career as an artist by surrounding him with 
luxuries during their early married life, and 
afterward had embittered him by depriving him 
of them. But the man doesn’t know what luxury 
means, Mary Louise. His tastes are those of a 
peasant.” 

“ Yet once your mother loved him, and believed 
in him.” 

“ I — I think she believed in him; I’m quite 
sure she did.” 

“ Then his nature must have changed. I can 
imagine, Alora, that when your mother first knew 
him he was hard-working and ambitious. He 
was talented, too, and that promised future fame. 
But when he married a wealthy woman he lost 


ALORA SPEAKS FRANKLY 


101 


his ambition, success being no longer necessary. 
After a period of ease and comfort in the society 
of bis lovely wife — for Gran ’pa says your 
mother was very lovely — be lost both the wife 
and the luxuries be enjoyed. A big man, Alora, 
would have developed a new ambition, but it 
seems your father was not big. His return to 
poverty after your mother’s desertion made him 
bitter and reckless; perhaps it dulled bis brain, 
and that is why be is no longer able to do good 
work. He was utterly crushed, I imagine, and 
hadn’t the stamina to recover bis former poise. 
He must have been ten years or so in this condi- 
tion, despairing and disinterested, when the wheel 
of fortune turned and be was again in the pos- 
session of wealth. He bad now the means to 
live as be pleased. But those years bad so 
changed him that be couldn’t respond to the new 
conditions. Doubtless be was glad, in a way, but 
he was now content merely to exist. Doesn’t that 
seem logical, Alora? ” 

Indeed, Mary Louise was delighted with her 
solution of the problem. It was in keeping with 
her talent for deducing the truth from meagre 
facts by logically putting them together and 
considering them as a whole. It was seldom she 


102 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


erred in these deductions. But Alora seemed 
unimpressed and noting her glum look Mary 
Louise said again: “ Doesn’t all this seem 
logical, dear? ” 

11 No,” said Alora. “ Father isn’t the man 
to be crushed by anything. He’s shrewd enough, 
in his bourgeois way. Once, long ago — back in 
New York — a woman made him give her money; 
it was my money, you know; and I have often 
thought he ran away from America to escape 
her further demands.” 

“ Who was the woman? ” 

“ My mother’s nurse.” 

“ Oh. Was it her wages she demanded? ” 

“ Perhaps so. I may have misjudged father 
in that case. But it seemed to me — I was a 
mere child then — that it must have been a larger 
sum than wages would have amounted to. Yet, 
perhaps not. Anyhow, he left America right 
afterward, and when we had wandered a year or 
so in various countries we settled down here.” 

1 1 Won’t he have to account for all the money 
he has spent and given away, when you come of 
age? ” inquired Mary Louise. 

“ No. Mother distinctly told me I was to ask 
for no accounting whatever. Her will says he 


ALORA SPEAKS FRANKLY 


103 


is to handle the income as he sees fit, just as if 
it were his own, so long as he provides properly 
for his daughter and treats her with fatherly 
consideration. That’s the only reason he keeps 
me with him, guarding my person but neglecting 
the other injunctions. If he set me adrift, as 
I’m sure he’d like to do, I could appeal to the 
court and his income would cease and another 
guardian be appointed. I believe there is some- 
thing of that sort in the will, and that is why he 
is so afraid of losing me. But he gives me no 
chance to appeal to anyone, although I sometimes 
think I shall run away and leave him in the 
lurch. If I could get to Chicago and tell Judge 
Bemsted, my mother’s lawyer, how I am treated, 
I believe he could make the court set aside my 
father’s guardianship. But I can’t get ten miles 
away from here, for lack of money.” 

“ How your dear mother would grieve, if she 
knew her plans for your happiness have failed! ” 
exclaimed Mary Louise. 

Alora frowned, and somehow that frown re- 
minded Mary Louise of the girl’s father. 

“ My mother ought to have known my father 
better,” she declared sullenly. “ I must not 
criticise her judgment, for her memory is my 


104 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

/ 

most precious possession and I know she loved 
me devotedly. But there is one thing in her 
history I can never understand. ’ ’ 

“ And that? ” questioned Mary Louise curi- 
ously, as Alora paused. 

“ My mother was an educated woman, well- 
bred and refined.” 

“ Yes; Gran'pa Jim told me that.” 

“ Then how could she have married my father, 
who is not a gentleman and never could have 
impressed a lady with the notion he was one? ” 
Mary Louise hesitated, for to admit this would 
send her deductions, so carefully constructed, 
tumbling in ruins. But Alora ought to know the 
man. 

“ If that is true, dear,” said she, “ it is the 
strangest part of your story; and, of course, we 
can only guess the reason, for the only one who 
could have explained it properly was your 
mother.” 


CHAPTER XI 


JASON JONES IS FRIGHTENED 

When Alora had retired to her bedroom that 
night Mary Louise told to her grandfather, who 
was her trusted confidant, all that the unhappy 
girl had related. 

“ Of course,’ ’ she added, “ Alora’s explana- 
tions dispel my half formed suspicion that there 
is some mystery about Jason Jones. I now see 
that you were right, Gran ’pa Jim, to laugh at 
me when I suggested such a thing, for in truth 
the man is easily understood once you become 
acquainted with his history. However, I now 
dislike him more than ever.” 

1 1 In justice to Jason Jones,” remarked the old 
Colonel, u we must acquit him of being a hypo- 
crite. He doesn’t attempt to mask his nature 
and a stranger is bound to see him at his worst. 
Doubtless Antoinette Seaver understood the man 
better than we are able to and sixteen years ago, 
or so, when he had youth, talent and ambition, 
his disagreeable characteristics were probably not 

105 


106 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


so marked. As for Alora, she is strongly preju- 
diced against her father and we must make due 
allowance for her bitterness. The feeling prob- 
ably arose through her sudden transfer from the 
care of a generous and loving mother to that of 
an ungracious father — a parent she had never 
before known. A child of eleven is likely to 
form strong affections and passionate dislikes.” 

“ Do you know,” said Mary Louise, “ it 
shocks me, this hatred of her father. It seems 
so unnatural. I wish we could bring them to 
understand one another better, Gran ’pa Jim.” 

“ That might prove a difficult task, my dear,” 
he replied with a smile, gently stroking her hair 
the while, “ and I do not think we are justified 
in undertaking it. How many times during our 
travels, Mary Louise, has your impulsive and 
tender heart urged you to assume the burdens, 
of other people? You seem to pick up a trail 
of sorrow or unhappiness with the eagerness of 
a bloodhound and I have all I can do to call you 
off the scent. One small girl can’t regulate the 
world, you know, and in this case we are likely 
to see very little of Alora Jones and her artist 
father. We will be nice to them during the few 
days we are here, but we must soon move on or 


JASON JONES IS FRIGHTENED 107 

we’ll never get home for your birthday, as we 
have planned.’ ’ 

Mary Louise sighed. 

“ You’re almost always right, Gran ’pa Jim,” 
she admitted; “ but in all our European travels 
I’ve not met so interesting a person as Alora, 
and she’s an American girl, which draws us still 
closer together. I’m going to make her promise 
that when she’s of age and her own mistress she 
will let me know, and come to us for a visit. 
Wouldn’t that be all right, Gran ’pa? ” 

He assured her it would be quite proper and 
that he also admired Alora and was sorry for her. 

On Sunday forenoon they went to the cathedral 
and in the afternoon took a boat to the blue grot- 
toes. In the evening there was a concert in the 
hotel. All that day the two girls were arm in 
arm and chatting together, developing their 
mutual liking, while the old Colonel trudged 
along in their wake and was generally ignored 
in the conversation. On Monday they planned 
an excursion to Capri, “ For you won’t mind if 
we don’t get you home until after dinner, will 
you? ” asked Mary Louise. 

“ Not at all,” said Alora. “ I want to make 
the most of this vacation.” 


108 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY ' 

“ Her father may mind, however,” suggested 
the Colonel. 

“ I don’t care whether he does or not,” 
retorted the girl, tossing her head. “ He has no 
consideration for me, so why should I consider 
him? ” 

“ I don’t like that attitude, dear,” said Mary 
Louise frankly. “ I — I don’t wish to be snippy, 
you know, but you should not forget that he is 
your father.” 

“ That,” replied Alora doggedly, “ is merely 
my misfortune, and I’m not going to allow it to 
ruin all my life.” 

On Monday morning they had scarcely finished 
breakfast when Jason Jones appeared at the 
hotel, having driven over from the villa in his 
little automobile — a tiny foreign contrivance 
that reminded one of a child’s cart but could 
cover the ground with considerable speed. They 
were sitting on the big piazza when Alora ’s 
father came striding up to them with a white, 
fear-struck face. In his trembling hands he held 
the morning Naples newspaper and without a 
word of greeting he said abruptly : 

“ Have you heard the news? ” 

Colonel Hathaway rose and bowed. 


JASON JONES IS FRIGHTENED 109 

“ Good morning, Mr. Jones,” said lie. “I do 
not read the local newspapers, for my knowledge 
of Italian is indifferent.” 

“ So is mine,” responded the artist, “ but I 
know enough of their lingo to make out that 
Italy has entered this fool war. She’s going to 
fight the Austrians, ’ 9 he continued, his voice shak- 
ing nervously, “ and do you know what that will 
mean, sir? ” 

“ I can’t imagine,” replied the Colonel calmly. 

“ It means that presently we’ll have all that 
horde of Germans overrunning Italy. They’ll 
conquer this helpless land as sure as fate, and 
we’ll all be burned out and tortured and muti- 
lated in the fiendish German way ! ’ ’ 

“ My dear sir, you are frightened without war- 
rant,” declared Colonel Hathaway. “ It will 
take some time to conquer Italy, and I cannot 
imagine the Austrians acting as you suggest.” 

“ Back of the Austrians are the Germans, and 
those Prussians are worse than wild American 
Indians,” insisted Jones. “ If they got their 
clutches on my daughter it would be more hor- 
rible than death and I don’t propose to leave her 
in danger a single minute. I’m going to quit this 
country. I’ve come for Alora. We must pack 


110 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


up and catch the first ship from Naples for 
America. ’ 7 

There was blank silence for a moment. 

“ Pm not afraid/ ’ said Alora, with a laugh, 
“ but if it means our getting out of this tiresome 
place and sailing for home, I’m glad that Italy’s 
gone into' the war. ’ ’ 

Colonel Hathaway was grave and thoughtful. 
The agitation of the artist seemed to increase 
with every moment. 

“ When does the next boat for America leave 
Naples? ” asked Mary Louise. 

“ Tuesday,” said Alora ’s father. “ We’ve 
just time to pack our possessions and leave.” 

“ Time! ” cried his daughter, “ why, I can 
pack all my possessions in an hour. Go home, 
sir, and fuss around as much as you like. I’ll 
join you some time this evening.” 

He gave her a queer look, hesitating. 

u We are surely safe enough for the present,” 
remarked the Colonel. “ The first act of war 
will be to send all the soldiers to the north bor- 
der. The fighting will be done in the Trentino 
for some time to come.” 

“ You don’t know these people,” said Jones, 
shifting uneasily from one foot to another. 


JASON JONES IS FRIGHTENED 


111 


“ They’re all brigands by nature and many of 
them by profession. As soon as the soldiers are 
sent north, all law and order will cease and 
brigandage will be the order of the day! ” 

“This is absurd!” exclaimed the Colonel 
testily. “ You’re not talking sense.” 

“ That’s a matter of opinion, sir; but I know 
my own business, and I’m going to get out of 
here. ’ ’ 

“ Wait a week longer,” suggested Mary 
Louise. “ We are to sail ourselves on the boat 
that leaves Naples a week from Tuesday, and 
it will be nice for Alora and me to travel home 
together.” 

“No; I won’t wait. Get your things, Alora, 
and come with me at once.” 

“ Have you made reservations on the boat? ” 
inquired Colonel Hathaway, refusing to be 
annoyed by the man’s brusque words and 
demeanor. 

“I’ll do that at once, by telephone. That’s 
one reason I came over. I’ll telephone the steam- 
ship office while the girl is getting ready.” 

“ I will go with you,” said the Colonel, as the 
artist turned away. 

While Jones used the telephone booth of the 


112 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


hotel Colonel Hathaway conversed with the pro- 
prietor, and afterward with the hall porter, who 
was better posted and spoke better English. 

“ This is outrageous! ” roared the artist, furi- 
ously bursting from the booth. “ To-morrow’s 
boat is abandoned! The government requires it 
as a transport. Why? Why? WTiy? ” and he 
wrung his hands despairingly. 

“I do not know, sir,” returned the Colonel, 
smiling at his futile passion. 

The smile seemed to strike Jones like a blow. 
He stopped abruptly and stared at the other man 
for a full minute — intently, suspiciously. Then 
he relaxed. 

“ You’re right,” said he coldly. 6 ‘ It’s folly 
to quarrel with fate. I’ve booked for a week 
from Tuesday, Hathaway, and we must stick it 
out till then. Do you take the same boat? ” 

“ That is my intention.” 

“ Well, there’s no objection. Now I’ll go get 
Alora. ’ ’ 

But Alora, hearing of the postponed sailing, 
positively refused to return home with him, and 
Mary Louise, supporting her new friend, urged 
her to extend her stay with her at the hotel. 
Strangely enough, the more he was opposed the 


JASON JONES IS FRIGHTENED 


113 


more quiet and composed the artist became. He 
even ceased to tremble and an odd apathy settled 
over him. 

“ The ball porter,” said the Colonel, “ thinks 
this is the safest place in Italy. The troops have 
been on the border for months and their positions 
are strongly fortified. There is no brigandage 
outside of Sicily, where the Mafia is not yet 
wholly suppressed.” 

Jones grinned rather sheepishly. 

“ All right, take his word for it,” said he. 
“ And if you’ll be responsible for the girl you 
may keep her till we’re ready to sail. Perhaps 
that’s the best way, after all.” Then, without a 
word of good-bye, he entered his little motor car 
and started down the driveway. 

“ A strange man,” said the Colonel, looking 
after him. * ‘ I wonder if it really was the war 
that frightened him — or something else — or if 
he was actually frightened at all? ” 

Alora laughed. 

“ You can’t guess father, try as you may,” 
she said. “ Usually he is cold as ice, but once 
in awhile he gets these wild fits, which I find 
rather amusing. You can’t understand that, of 
course, but if you were obliged to live under the 


114 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


same roof with. Jason Jones you would welcome 
his outbursts as relief from the monotony of 
contemptuous silence.” 


CHAPTER XII 


SILVIO ' S GOLD 

Jason Jones urged his little car to its best 
speed until he gained his villa. Entering the 
grounds, he was confronted by his factotum, the 
Italian, Silvio. 

He sprang out and approached the man. 

“ Is the prisoner safe? ” he whispered. 

“ Certainly, Signore.” 

“ Is she still in the grape-house? ” 

“ With the wine presses, Signore.” 

“ And she can’t get out? ” 

“ Unless she becomes small, like a rat, 
Signore.” 

Jones glanced around suspiciously, then fixed 
his gaze on a little outbuilding of stone, with a 
tiled roof, which stood quite removed from the 
others of the group. 

“ Has she screamed, or cried out? ” he asked 
the man. 

“ Not since I put her in, las’ night, Signore.” 

“ Good. You’ve fed her? ” 


115 


116 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ The plenty. She eat very well. It’s a nice 
lady, Signore.” 

“ She’s dangerous. Listen, Silvio: we must 
keep her there a week longer.” 

“If I am jailer a week, I mus’ double my 
price,” he asserted, shrugging his shoulders. 

“ Nonsense! ” 

“ The lady will offer me more to let her out. 
She say so.” 

“ What! You’d betray me? ” 

“Not if I have the gold — here, in my hand 
— now, Signore.” 

Jones grew red and then white. He eyed the 
man wickedly. He scowled, and Silvio smiled 
pleasantly. Silvio was big for an Italian; big 
and brawny; as his smile faded his face assumed 
a look of stubborn determination. 

“ So you want the gold now, Silvio? ” 

“ At once, if it please the Signore. The gen- 
darmes are ugly if the law is broken. Their jails 
are not as pleasant as the grape-house. So the 
gold must be twice the amount we had spoken 
of, Signore.” 

“ And you will promise she shall not escape; 
that you’ll keep her safe until — until I tell you 
to let her go? ” 


SILVIO’S GOLD 


117 


“ That is our bargain, Signore.” 

Jones sighed regretfully. 

“ Very well, then, Silvio, ” he said. “ You’re 
a robber — the son of a brigand — the spawn of 
a bandit! But come with me to the house, and 
you shall have your gold.” 

Alora stayed all that week with Mary Louise, 
hearing nothing of her father and almost for- 
getting her unhappiness in the society of her 
delightful new friend. It was Sunday evening 
when the Colonel and Mary Louise drove their 
guest over to the villa and the two parties did 
not see one another again until they met on the 
deck of the steamer in Naples on the following 
Tuesday morning. 

The Joneses came aboard very quietly just at 
the last moment and at the gang-plank Alora ’s 
father was confronted by a grimy Italian boy 
who handed him a letter. Without pausing to 
read it, Jones hurried below, and he kept his 
stateroom until the ship was well out in the blue 
Mediterranean, on its way to Gibraltar and New 
York. But no one missed him, for Alora and 
Mary Louise were happy at being reunited and 
Gran ’pa Jim was happy in seeing them happy. 


CHAPTER XIII 


DORFIELD 

In one of the middle-west states there is a 
delightful little city called Dorfield. It hasn’t so 
many thousand inhabitants, but in all its aspects 
and its municipal equipment it is indeed a 
modern city. It has factories and a big farming 
community to support its streets of neat and 
progressive shops, and at the west side of the 
business district is a residence section where 
broad, wooded streets furnish the setting for 
many cozy homes. Some of the houses are old 
and picturesque, and some are new and impos- 
ing, but each has its flower-lit garden, its fruit 
and shade trees and its little garage or barn 
tucked away in the back yard. 

When you come to Oak Street there is a 
rambling frame house on the corner, set well 
back, where Peter Conant, the lawyer, lives with 
his good wife and his niece Irene Macfarlane, 
who is seventeen. This is one of the ancient 
dwellings of Dorfield, for the Conants are “ old 
118 


DORFIELD 


119 


inhabitants.” Right next them stands a more 
modern and expensive, if less attractive, mansion, 
with grounds twice as large and a velvet lawn 
that puts the Conants , carelessly-cropped grass 
to shame. But the two families are neighbors 
and friends nevertheless, for in the new house 
lives Colonel James Hathaway and his grand- 
daughter Mary Louise Burrows. At least, they 
live there when at home and, although they seem 
persistent ramblers, they are glad to have this 
refuge to return to when wearied with traveling 
and sight-seeing. 

One morning in June Mr. Conant was just 
seating himself at the breakfast table when a 
messenger-boy delivered a telegram — a 1 * night 
letter ” from New York. The lawyer, a short, 
thick-set man of middle age, with a stern coun- 
tenance but mild blue eyes, laid aside his morn- 
ing paper and read the telegram with his usual 
deliberation. Mrs. Conant silently poured the 
coffee, knowing any interference would annoy 
him. Irene, the niece, was a cripple and sat in 
her wheeled chair at the table, between her uncle 
and aunt. She was a pleasant-faced, happy little 
maid, consistently ignoring her withered limbs 
and thankful that from her knees up she was 


120 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

normal and that her wheeled chair rendered her 
fairly independent of assistance in all ordinary 
activities. Everyone loved Irene Macfarlane 
because of her brave and cheery acceptance of 
her misfortune, and her merry speech and spon- 
taneous laughter rendered her, as “ Aunt Han- 
nah ” often declared, “ the light of the house.’ ’ 
Irene was, moreover, an intimate and highly 
valued friend of her next door neighbor, Mary 
Louise Burrows. 

Mr. Peter Conant, sipping his coffee reflec- 
tively, read the lengthy telegram a second time. 
Then he said, somewhat irritably and chopping 
his words into distinct syllables, as was his habit 
at all times: 

“ I wonder why people imagine a lawyer’s 
duties cover every phase of life? My clients use 
me as a real-estate agent, a horse trader, a pur- 
chasing agent, a father confessor, an automobile 
expert, a medical adviser, and sometimes — in 
their simplicity — as a banker! ” 

“ What’s wrong now, Peter? ” inquired Mrs. 
Conant with wifely sympathy. 

6 1 Colonel Hathaway wants to know ’ ’ 

“ Oh, is Mary Louise coming back? ” cried 
Irene eagerly. 


DORFIELD 


121 


He frowned at her. 

44 What does the Colonel wish to know, Peter ? " 

44 1 object to this unwarrantable cross-exami- 
nation,” said he. 44 It is customary to first allow 
one to state his case.” 

44 Forgive me, Uncle Peter! ” 

44 Take your time,” said Aunt Hannah, com- 
posedly buttering the toast. 44 You will, anyhow, 
and I'm sure Irene and I have both learned to 
curb our feminine curiosity.” 

He glanced at the telegram again. 

44 Do you know if the Pelton place has been 
rented, my dear? ” 

44 The Pelton place? WFy, it wasn't rented 
yesterday, for I passed by there and saw the 
rent sign still in the window. Mr. Harlan is the 
agent. ” 

44 1 know. And where can we find a female 
house-servant, Hannah? ” 

44 Now, see here, Peter; it's all very well for 
you to keep your own counsel, when there's a 
professional secret to be guarded, but if you 
want any help from me you've got to open your 
mouth and talk out plainly, so I can answer you 
in a sensible way.” 

44 You're always sensible, Hannah,” he ob- 


122 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


served, quite unruffled by her demand. And then 
he ate a whole slice of toast and drank his coffee 
and handed his cup for more before he spoke 
another word. 

Irene devoted herself to her breakfast. She 
knew Uncle Peter’s ways and that it was useless 
to attempt to hurry him or force him to explain, 
until he was quite ready to do so. Aunt Hannah 
bided her time. Peter was a thoughtful man, 
and he was doubtless thinking. His wife was not 
only a clever helpmate but was noted for her 
consideration of her erratic spouse. 

“ The Colonel,” said Mr. Conant at last, “ has 
run across a man who wants to make his home 
in Dorfield. A very sensible idea. The Colonel 
met the man in Europe. The man ’ 9 

“ What’s the man’s name? ” inquired Mrs. 
Conant. 

He referred to the telegram. 

“ Jones. Jason Jones.” 

“ I never heard of him.” 

He looked at her reproachfully. 

“ Why should you, my dear? The Colonel 
found the man in Europe. We live in Dorfield. 
The man, it seems, has a daughter ” 

“ Oh, goody! ” cried Irene. 


DORFIELD 


123 


“ Who has become a friend of Mary Louise. 
Therefore the Colonel wires to ask if there is a 
furnished house to rent at a modest price and if 
a competent female servant can be secured for 
the man and his daughter. He requests me to 
wire an answer promptly. That is the gist of 
the telegram, although the Colonel, in his usual 
extravagant way, has paid for more words than 
were required to express his meaning.” 

“ And what are you going to do about it? ” 
demanded Mrs. Conant. 

“ I am endeavoring to gain information from 
my wife.” 

“ Very well. What does he mean by 4 a modest 
price ’? The Pelton place is expensive. The 
rent is sixty dollars a month, while a comfort- 
able house like that of the Widow Harrington 
rents for fifteen dollars, with good, solid fur- 
niture.” 

u Is Mrs. Harrington’s house for rent? ” he 
asked. 

“ Yes. She’ll go to live with her married 
daughter as soon as she can find a tenant. The 
poor creature needs the money, and her house is 
just around the corner from here and her back 
yard backs up to the Colonel’s back yard. Now, 


124 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


the Pelton place is two blocks from here, and the 
Peltons don’t need the money, because they’re 
already too rich and aristocratic to live in Dor- 
field any longer.” 

“ H-m-m! ” murmured Mr. Conant. “ It 
occurs to me that a friend of Colonel Hathaway 
might desire a more luxurious home than that 
of the Widow Harrington.” 

“ Doesn’t the telegram say ‘ a modest price ’? ” 

“ It does. I’ll quote both places and let the 
man Jones take his choice. And how about the 
female servant, Hannah? ” 

“ Leave that to me; I can hire plenty. But 
if Mr. Jason Jones takes the Pelton place he 
will want one kind of a servant, and if he takes 
Mrs. Harrington’s house he’ll want a different 
sort.” 

He gazed at her admiringly and passed his 
cup again, saying: 

“ You’ve a logical mind, my dear. Had you 
been a man you might have become a fairly good 
lawyer.” 

“ No, Peter; not another drop. You’ve had 
two cups already.” 

“ Are you sure, Hannah? ” 

“ Absolutely positive! ” 


DORFIELD 


125 


“ Then,” said he, rising with a sigh, “ I’ll 
go to the office.” 

To Mr. Conant’s disappointment, to Mrs. 
Conant’s delight, to Irene’s satisfaction and the 
astonishment of all, Mr. Jason Jones selected 
Mrs. Harrington’s modest honse and ordered it 
rented and prepared for his arrival on the fol- 
lowing Thursday. This was conveyed in a second 
telegram from Colonel Hathaway, who requested 
the lawyer to inform old Uncle Eben and Aunt 
Sally, the Colonel’s own faithful colored servants 
and caretakers, that he and Mary Louise would 
return home on the same day. 

“ You see,” said Aunt Hannah, triumphantly, 
“ I sized the Joneses up pretty well. It isn’t 
necessary for a man to he rich to be a friend of 
the dear Colonel, for he considers a man, rather 
than a man’s pocketbook.” 

“ Yet a man who can afford to travel abroad, 
with his daughter,” began Mr. Conant, argu- 
mentatively, “ should certainly be able and 
willing ” 

“ What do you know about him, Peter? Per- 
haps he has spent his ready money in Europe 
and is now obliged to economize. Unless that 
is the case, why does he come to a sleepy little 


126 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

town like Dorfield, which is almost forgotten 
by the big world, to settle down? ” 

“ Why, he’s the Colonel’s friend,” retorted 
the lawyer, stiffly. 

“ And Mary Louise is his daughter’s friend,” 
said Irene. “ That accounts for it, of course, 
and they couldn’t have picked a prettier place. 
Dorfield may be sleepy, and quiet, and half for- 
gotten by the rest of the big world, but it’s 
simply delightful as a residence. Didn’t Colonel 
Hathaway choose it for a home? And the Colonel 
could afford to live at the Waldorf-Astoria, if 
he wanted to.” 

“ I know why you are pleased, Irene,” 
remarked Aunt Hannah, smiling upon her niece. 
“ You’re going to have another girl friend.” 

“ She won’t be as nice as Mary Louise, 
though,” was the reply. “ There’s no girl in 
the world as sweet and lovely as Mary Louise! ” 

“ Or one that innocently gets into more 
trouble,” declared Mr. Conant. 

“ That,” said Aunt Hannah, “ is because she 
can’t let other people’s troubles alone.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


HOME AGAIN 

Mr. Conant, who was Colonel Hathaway’s law- 
yer and confidential agent, was at the train to 
meet his important client on his return to 
Dorfield. The first to alight from the coach 
was the Colonel, who greeted his lawyer with a 
cordial handclasp. Mary Louise kissed Peter 
Conant upon his impassive cheek and presented 
him to a pretty young girl who clung to her 
arm smiling, yet half bewildered by her arrival 
in a strange town. There seemed no one else 
with the party and Mr. Conant glanced over 
the crowd of passengers and said: 

“ Mr. Jones did not accompany you, then? ” 

“ Why, yes; I suppose he’s here,” answered 
the Colonel carelessly. “ I believe he traveled 
in another car.” 

“ I don’t see him anywhere,” added Mary 
Louise. i ‘ I wonder if anyone reminded him that 
this is the place to get off? ” 

“ Never mind;” said Alora; “ if father can’t 
127 


128 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


keep track of himself, let him go on to another 
station. I can’t lose him for long, that’s certain. ’ ’ 

“ There he is, up ahead,” announced Mary 
Louise. “ He’s quarreling with his porter about 
something.” 

‘ ‘ To save the tip, ’ ’ suggested Alora, scornfully. 

Mary Louise rushed to greet an old colored 
man with snow-white hair, who was picking up 
their hand baggage. 

“ Oh, Uncle Eben, I’m so glad to see you 
again! ” she exclaimed. “ And how’s Aunt 
Sallie? And is my pony well? And are the 
goldfish still alive? And ” 

“ Bress yo’ soul, Ma’y Weeze! ” said the 
delighted old servant, “ ev ’body’s well an’ joyful 
to see you-all back ag’in.” 

The Colonel shook Uncle Eben’s hands — both 
of them — in a kindly but dignified manner. 

“ I suppose the automobile is still running, 
Uncle? ” 

4 ‘ Not jes’ dis yere minnit, Kun’l,” with a 
glad chuckle, “ but dat car’s gwine ter run jes’ 
as soon as we-all gits aboahd. What yo’ think 
I’s be’n doin’ all winter, Kun’l, in dat lonesome- 
ness house, ’cept keepin’ dat car greased up? ” 

“ Did you grease it in the house, then, Uncle? ” 


HOME AGAIN 


129 


asked Mary Louise gravely, but with twinkling 
eyes. 

Old Eben chuckled again, for this was a happy 
hour for him, but while he chuckled he led them 
to where the automobile stood waiting. Behind 
the others slowly followed Jason Jones, carrying 
his own luggage and eyeing every detail of his 
surroundings in the manner of a countryman 
paying his first visit to town. He was inwardly 
sizing up Dorfield as a place of residence. When 
Jones got into the car the Colonel briefly intro- 
duced him to the lawyer. 

“ This is Mr. Jones, Mr. Conant.” 

Jones looked at the lawyer and gave a slight 
nod, and Mr. Conant’s bow was very stiff and 
formal. Already he had, with fair accuracy, 
grasped the relationship of the man to the others. 
Alora Jones seemed a fine girl — the right sort 
— and Mary Louise was evidently fond of her. 
The Colonel barely tolerated the man Jones, 
whom he did not like, for the daughter’s sake. 
The girl herself lacked in respect for her father, 
and this unfilial attitude seemed condoned by 
both Mary Louise and the Colonel, which was 
tangible evidence that there was something 
wrong about Jason Jones. With such a cue 


130 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


for guidance, Mr. Conant decided he had no use 
for Jason Jones, either. 

Uncle Eben first drove the car to the Widow 
Harrington’s cottage, where Mrs. Conant awaited 
the new tenants to introduce them to their serv- 
ant and to assure them that everything was 
prepared for their convenience. Then they drove 
to Colonel Hathaway’s home, where Irene was 
at the gate in her wheeled chair, a bunch of her 
choicest roses in her hand, ready to welcome 
her friend Mary Louise and to be kissed and 
hugged with girlish enthusiasm. 

It was a happy homecoming, indeed, for Mary 
Louise. And Colonel Hathaway breathed a deep 
sigh of relief as he entered his own portals. 

“ From now on,” he said to his granddaughter 
that evening , 1 ‘ I am under no obligation to assist 
that impossible person, Jones, or to even asso- 
ciate with him. For your sake, my darling, I 
have suffered the infliction of his presence with 
fortitude, even going to the extent of locating 
him in our beloved town of Dorfield, that you 
and Alora might enjoy one another’s society. 
But from this time forward Jason Jones is to 
be a distant acquaintance rather than a com- 
panion. Congratulate me, Mary Louise! ” 


HOME AGAIN 


131 


“ I do, Gran ’pa Jim,” she replied soberly, 
“ and I thank yon, too. It has been a trial for 
both of us, but we’ve been really helpful to poor 
AJora. I want to try to bring a little happiness 
into her life and encourage her to become as 
sweet and lovable a girl as she has the nature 
to be, and this could never have been accom- 
plished had we allowed her to drift in the sole 
companionship of her disagreeable father.” 


CHAPTER XV 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 

Alora formed an immediate friendship for 
crippled Irene Macfarlane, first based on sym- 
pathy and afterward on genuine admiration. 
That one condemned to pass her entire life in 
a wicker wheel-chair should he so bright and 
cheerful, with no word of protest or even a 
reference to her own misfortune, was deemed 
wonderful by Alora, and she soon found that 
Irene had an excuse or explanation for every 
seeming annoyance her friends suffered and 
delighted to console them. At the same time 
she allowed no one to console her, because she 
declared she needed no consolation. 

Such a disposition invited confidence, and 
soon Irene knew more of Alora *s past history, 
including her trials and tribulations, than even 
Mary Louise had yet learned, and was shocked 
and grieved at the girPs vengeful defiance of 
her father, due to his neglect and coldness as 
well as to his contemptible selfishness. But 

132 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 133 


Irene had an excuse ready even for the artist. 

“ Poor Mr. Jones! ” she said one day, when 
the three girls were together and had been 
discussing Alora’s troubles; “ think what a trial 
it must have been to him to be saddled with 
the care of a child he had not seen since baby- 
hood and had no especial interest in. As for 
affection between them, it could not sprout nor 
grow because there was no mutual understanding 
to germinate it. Your father’s life, my dear, 
had been wrecked by his separation from your 
mother, and the money meant little to him at 
that period of his life when you were left to 
his care. But did he refuse the obligation so 
inconsiderately thrust upon him? No. Although 
a man of reserved nature — almost a recluse — 
self absorbed and shrinking from association 
with others, he accepted the care of an eleven 
year old child and, without being able to change 
his disposition to suit her requirements, has 
guarded her health and safety ever since.” 

“ So that he can use my money,” added Alora, 
with a shrug. 

“ But you admit that he doesn’t squander 
money on himself.” 

“ I don’t know what he does with it. If he 


134 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


wants books, he buys them; he bought a rickety 
automobile in Italy and never took me to ride 
in it; but his extravagance seems to end there. 
I’ve read some letters that he left around, show- 
ing that he is investing thousands in his own 
name — what for, I can’t guess, as he is too 
miserly ever to have a use for it.” 

“ Well, he may be intending to endow some 
deserving charity,” suggested Irene. “ And, as 
for his not loving you, Alora, I fancy you have 
never tried to win your father’s love.” 

“ No one could love that man.” 

“You have never been able to get beneath 
his reserve. You came to him from a luxurious 
life, a petted and pampered child, and his simple 
tastes and unemotional nature repelled you from 
the first. Is it not sol ” 

“I’m not sure, Irene. I needed sympathy 
and affection. Had my father been different, 
had he shown love for me, or even fatherly 
consideration, I would have responded eagerly. 
But he ignored me. There has never been any 
companionship between us. He has guarded my 
personal safety because I was of financial value 
to him. Once, when I contracted a fever, he 
was really worried, and hired a skillful doctor 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 135 

and a trained nurse; but he never entered my 
sickroom. When I was well, he reproached me 
for costing him so much money. I told him, it 
was my money, and he was costing me more 
than I could ever cost him. I reminded him he 
would have been a beggar, but for my income, 
and that shut him up at once.” 

“ There’s the whole trouble,’’ declared Irene. 
“ Constant friction and a lack of consideration 
for one another. Such remarks could not have 
made him more gracious toward you, Alora, and 
you did not appreciate his care in furnishing 
you with the means of recovery.” 

“ Had I died,” said the girl, “ my fortune 
would have gone to a bunch of third-cousins whom 
I have never seen. That would have stopped 
father’s right to the income, you see.” 

Irene sighed and Mary Louise smiled. It was 
almost impossible to defend Mr. Jones consist- 
ently, with Alora present to accuse him. 

The artist at first took little interest in his 
new home. The cottage was small and not very 
cheerful, but it was cheap, and all that Jason 
Jones seemed to care for was a place to stay 
that was not expensive. He continued his read- 
ing and had a book in his hand from morning 


136 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


till night. He seldom left the cottage except for 
a trip to the public library or to a book-store, 
and never spoke to anyone unless it was 
necessary. 

Their maid was Jane Gladys 0 ’Donnel, stout 
and good-natured, an indifferent cook and rather 
untidy. She was twenty years old and the eldest 
of a large and impoverished family. Her mother 
was a laundress — “ took in washin’ ” — and her 
earnings, with the wages of Jane Gladys, must 
suffice to feed many hungry mouths. That was 
why Mrs. Conant had hired Jane Gladys. Aunt 
Hannah knew the girl was not very competent, 
but she was cheap, so Mr. Jones accepted her 
without protest. Alora had lived so long abroad 
that she did not know what a competent American 
housemaid is. 

One forenoon — they had now been a month 
at Dorfield — Mr. Jones was seated on the little 
front porch, reading as usual, when a queer 
buzzing in the air overhead aroused his attention. 

“ What’s that? ” he called sharply, and Jane 
Gladys, who was dusting in the little room behind 
him, replied: 

“ That, sor, is only Steve Kane’s flyin’- 
machine.” 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 137 


u A what? ” 

“ A flyin’ -machine, sor. Kane has a faothry 
fer makin , the fcrazy things in the town yonder — 
over by the South Side.” 

“ Indeed! ” He got up and went into the 
yard to watch the far-away speck in the sky that 
was humming so persistently. “ Why, there’s 
another! There are two of them,” he exclaimed, 
as if to himself. 

“ There might be a dozen, sor, ’cause there’s 
a school for airy — airy — airy-flyin’ over by 
Kane’s facthry, where they teaches the folks to 
fly that buy the machines.” 

He stood a long time, watching the sky. When 
the last aeroplane had disappeared he resumed 
his reading. But the next day he watched for 
the machines again, abandoning his book to follow 
the course of the flyers. 

“ Where did you say that factory is located? ” 
he asked Jane Gladys. 

“ Over by the gas works, sor, be the South 
Side. Ye takes the Ellem street car, at the four 
comers. On a Sunday there be crowds a-watchin’ 
the air-divils.” 

He started to read again, but gave it up and 
walked nervously up and down the little porch. 


138 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Jane Gladys noted this with surprise, for he was 
usually quiet and unobservant, “ like th’ toad in 
th’ garden, what squats under a bush all day an’ 
fergits he’s alive till a fly lights on his nose,” as 
she expressed it to the family at home. 

After lunch Mr. Jones went to town and after 
making inquiries took the car to the aviation 
works and field. He watched the construction of 
flying machines in the factory and saw one or two 
pupils take short flights in the air. And Jason 
Jones was so interested that he was late to 
dinner that evening. 

Next day he was at the aviation field again, 
and from that time he haunted the place, silent 
and composed but watching every detail of manu- 
facture and listening to the experts as they 
instructed the pupils. These were not many — 
three altogether — although Stephen Kane’s aero- 
plane was now admitted to be one of the safest 
and most reliable ever invented. And one day 
one of the instructors, noticing the silent man 
who had watched so long, invited him to take a 
flight, thinking perhaps to frighten him; but 
Jason Jones promptly accepted the invitation and 
with perfect composure endured the strange expe- 
rience and returned to ground with heightened 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 139 


color but no other evidence of excitement. Could 
Alora have seen him that day she would have 
acquitted him of cowardice. 

But Alora knew nothing of her father’s odd 
fancy for some time after he became interested 
in aeroplanes. She was not often at home during 
the day, frequently taking lunch with Mary 
Louise or Irene and passing much of her time 
in their company. She had no interest whatever 
in her father’s movements and Jane Gladys 
didn’t think to mention the matter to her, for 
“ flying-machines ” had ceased to be a novelty 
in Dorfield and the sound of their buzzing through 
the air was heard many times a day. But in 
turning over a pile of her father’s books one day 
in his absence, Alora found several treatises on 
aviation and was almost startled to find that 
Jason Jones cared for any reading aside from 
light novels. 

She had been hunting, at the time, for a novel 
to read herself, so turning from the aviation 
literature to a shelf of fiction she began searching 
for an interesting title. Presently, as she drew 
out one of her father’s books, it opened by acci- 
dent at a place where a letter had been tucked 
in — a letter written on soiled and coarse paper 


140 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


of a foreign make. It was addressed: 44 Sig. 
Jaysn Jones, at the Steamer Hercules to sail for 
New York, U.S.A.” Opening it, she found it 
signed: 44 Silvio Alleghero.” 

That was their man-servant in Italy, so with 
a smile of anticipated amusement she read the 
letter. It was brief, indeed, but the girPs expres- 
sion soon changed to a puzzled look, for the 
scrawl said: 

4 4 Honored Signore : At your com- 
mand I have this morning, three hours 
after your departure for Naples, allowed 
the prisoner to escape.” 

4 4 How funny ! ’ ’ she exclaimed, knitting her 
brows. 44 I can’t remember any prisoner at the 
villa. Perhaps it was the cat. It would be just 
like Silvio to consider the release of a cat an 
important event.” 

She replaced the letter in the book and after 
selecting another novel forgot Silvio’s epistle 
entirely. 

Another time, when Alora happened to be at 
home for their noon-day luncheon and her father 
did not appear, Jane Gladys quietly remarked 
in answer to her query that 44 th’ ol’ man was 
prob’ly over to the flyin ’-machine works.” 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 141 


“ Does he go there often? ” she asked in 
surprise. 

“ Why, he mostly lives there/ ’ asserted the 
maid. 

Alora laughed, and afterward told Mary 
Louise, as a bit of humorous gossip, that the 
man \yho had heretofore failed to find any 
interest in life had at last succumbed to the 
fascination of the aeroplane. 

“ Well, I’m glad of it,” said Mary Louise. 
“ I’ve often wondered, Lory, how your father 
could be so infatuated with novel-reading, absorb- 
ing stories of human interest, if they have any 
interest at all, with such avidity, while the real 
people all around him failed to interest him at 
all. I have thought perhaps he read to keep 
his mind from — from other things that it would 
make him unhappy to dwell upon.” 

“ I have thought so, too,” replied Alora, 
musingly. “ And this queer fancy of his for a 
new and unusual invention may serve the same 
purpose. But I, too, am glad he has found a 
diversion that will keep him away from home. 
That barn of a cottage will become more home- 
like without his eternal presence.” 

Peter Conant, the lawyer, had paid little heed 


142 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


to Jason Jones since the latter’s arrival in 
Dorfield. He had heard his wife and Irene gossip 
about the girl and her father and state that 
Alora was an heiress and Mr. Jones merely the 
guardian of her fortune until she came of age, 
but his legal mind decided that the girl’s “ for- 
tune ” must be a modest one, since they lived 
so economically and dressed so plainly. Colonel 
Hathaway, who might have undeceived him in 
this regard, seldom spoke to the lawyer of 
anything but his own affairs and had forborne 
to mention Mr. Jones and his personal affairs 
in any way. 

Therefore Mr. Conant was somewhat surprised 
when one morning Jason Jones called at his office 
and asked for an interview. The lawyer was 
busy that day, and attaching little importance to 
his caller he demanded brusquely: 

“ Well, sir, what can I do for you? ” 

The man seated himself and glanced around the 
room before replying. The big desk, littered 
with papers, the cabinet files and stiff chairs 
seemed to meet his approval. In the outer office 
a girl was busily clicking a typewriter. 

“You are Colonel Hathaway’s lawyer, I 
believe? ” said Jones. 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 143 


“ I have that honor, sir.” 

“ That’s why I came to yon. The Colonel is a 
prosperous man and has judgment. I want your 
advice about investing some money.” 

Mr. Conant regarded him with a speculative 
gaze. The thought flashed through his mind that 
if J ones had any money to invest he might better 
buy himself a new necktie and have his shoes 
repaired, or even invest in a new dress for his 
daughter, who needed it. But he merely said in 
his peculiar way of chopping each word off short 
as he uttered it: 

“ How much have you to invest? ” 

“ Not a great deal at this moment, but I am 
constantly receiving dividends and interest on 
my daughter’s securities and so, if I am going 
to live in Dorfield, I shall need a lawyer to 
advise me how to reinvest the money, as well as 
how to make out the papers properly. I don’t 
want to make any mistakes and get robbed — 
even by my lawyer. But I’ll pay you a fair price. 
Perhaps I should explain that while the income 
is derived from my daughter’s property the 
investments are to be made in my name.” 

“ Why so? ” 

“ The income belongs to me, by my dead 


144 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


wife’s will, as long as Alora is alive and in my 
keeping. When the girl is eighteen she will 
manage her own affairs, and I’ll be quit of her — 
and out of any further income, as well. So I’m 
investing now to secure my future.” 

“ I see. How old is your daughter at this 
time? ” 

“ Fifteen.” 

“ So you’ve three years more to grab the 
income.” 

“ Exactly.” 

“ How much money do you wish to invest 
to-day? ” 

“ Twelve thousand dollars.” 

Peter Conant sat up straight in his chair. 

“ And you say this is but part of the income? ” 

“ The estate is valued at nearly two million 
dollars.” 

The lawyer gave a low whistle of amazement. 
Beside this enormous sum, even Colonel Hatha- 
way’s holdings shrank into insignificance. 

“ You surprise me,” he said. “ I imagine, 
then, that you can afford to live somewhat better 
than you do.” 

“ That is none of your business.” 

“ True. Good day, Mr. Jones.” 


the PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 145 
“ Eh? ” 

‘ 4 1 won’t accept you as a client.” 

“ Why not, sir? ” 

“ Thank you for asking. In the first place, 
I don’t like you,” said Peter Conant. “ Nor 
do I approve of your treating your daughter — 
a great heiress — as you do, and hoarding all 
her enormous income for your personal use. 
You’re not toting fair. It is an unjust arrange- 
ment and I’ll have nothing to do with it.” 

Jason Jones sat still and stared at him. 

“ Good day, sir! ” repeated the lawyer, curtly. 

The man did not move. Peter turned to his 
papers. 

“ See here,” the artist presently remarked; 
“ let’s come to an understanding. I don’t like 
you, either. You’re insulting. But you’re honest. 
I think I could trust you.” 

“ I’m not especially honest,” retorted the 
lawyer, “ hut I’m particular. I don’t need 
clients, and I don’t want a client I’m ashamed 
of.” 

Still the man did not offer to go. Instead, he 
reflected for awhile in his stolid, unemotional 
way, while Peter Conant frowned and examined 
the papers on his desk. 


146 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ I believe you ’ll see the thing in a different 
light if you read my wife’s will,” said Jones. 
“ I’ve brought a copy of it with me, thinking it 
might help you to understand my affairs.” 

“Is it an attested copy? ” asked the lawyer, 
turning around again. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Let me see it.” 

Mr. Conant decided to read the will, with the 
idea that he might find in it some way to assist 
Alora. When he had finished the document he 
was disappointed. Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones, 
a woman clever enough to make a fortune, had 
been foolish enough to give her former husband 
autocratic power over her money during her 
daughter’s minority. Had the man been a gentle- 
man, the folly would have been mitigated, but 
Jason Jones, in Mr. Conant ’s opinion, was a 
selfish, miserly, conscienceless rascal. Enjoying 
a yearly income that was a small fortune in 
itself, he had neglected to educate his daughter 
properly, to clothe her as befitted her station in 
life or to show her ordinary fatherly considera- 
tion. Affection and kindness seemed foreign to 
the man’s nature. He handed the will back and 
said: 


THE PUZZLE BECOMES INTRICATE 147 


“ Yon have taken an unfair advantage of the 
confidence reposed in you by your dead wife, who 
doubtless loved her child. Legally your actions 
cannot be assailed, but morally they should 
ostracize you from decent society. As I said 
before, I do not want your business. I ’ll have 
nothing to do with you.” 

Jones remained unruffled. 

“ I’m a stranger in the city,” he remarked. 
“ Perhaps you will recommend me to some good 
lawyer.” 

“ No. There are a score of lawyers in town. 
Make your own choice.” 

The man rose and put on his hat. 

“ I said you were honest, and I was right,” 
he calmly remarked. “ I’ll say now that you are 
a fool, and I’m right in that, also,” and with 
these words he walked away. 

That was his only protest to the humiliating 
rebuff. He showed no anger. He did not seem 
annoyed. He simply rode down in the elevator, 
examined the directory, and selected another 
lawyer in the same building. 


CHAPTER XVI 


ALOHA WINS HER WAY 

Mary Louise decided that Alora Jones im- 
proved on acquaintance. There were many 
admirable traits in her character that had lain 
dormant until developed by association with two 
girls of her own age who were themselves gentle 
and considerate. It is true that Alora at times 
was still headstrong and willful and unable to 
bridle her tongue when irritated, but neither 
Mary Louise nor Irene ever reproved her by 
word or look, so that she grew ashamed of 
her outbursts and when at home her father 
aroused her to anger she fled to her girl friends 
and sought in their companionship the antidote 
to her vexation. The two friends had decided 
it was unwise to comment on Alora’s unhappy 
family relations and soon she discovered this 
and refrained from burdening them with her 
home quarrels. 

No one could witness Irene’s patient resigna- 
tion to misfortune without admiring her charac- 


148 


ALORA WINS HER WAY 


149 


ter and being touched by her bravery and 
gentleness, and association with this crippled 
girl was softening Alora’s hard and defiant 
nature wonderfully. Had the association con- 
tinued it might have redeemed the prospective 
heiress from many of the faults she had acquired 
through years of neglect and rebellion against 
fate, but the close triumvirate of girl friends was 
suddenly dissolved, early in July, by no less a 
person than Will Morrison — a wealthy and 
kindly natured gentleman who was a friend of 
both the Conants and Colonel Hathaway. 

Will Morrison had purchased a yacht; it was 
anchored in the breakwater near the Chicago 
Yacht Club, and its owner intended making a 
summer trip through the Great Lakes and cor- 
dially invited the Conants and Irene, and Mary 
Louise and Colonel Hathaway to accompany his 
party. 

Unfortunately, Mrs. Conant at that time was 
ill. She had contracted a lingering but mild 
form of spring fever that would keep her in bed 
for weeks, and Irene, who was devoted to her 
aunt, would not leave her to the mercies of a 
nurse. Mary Louise wanted to go, though, for 
the Morrisons were delightful people and any 


150 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


yacht they purchased would be sure to be safe 
and comfortable. 

Since the Conants could not go, Mary Louise 
suggested to her grandfather that they ask Will 
Morrison to invite Alora Jones, and the Colonel 
approved the idea because he thought it would 
do Alora much good to mingle with refined 
people such as were sure to form the yacht party. 
So, when he answered Mr. Morrison’s letter, he 
told him something of Alora and asked permis- 
sion to fetch her along. 

“ I’m not at all sure,” he said to Mary Louise, 
“ that Mr. Jones will permit Alora to go with 
us.” 

“ Nor am I,” the girl replied; 61 but perhaps 
Alora can coax him to consent. It might be a 
good idea for you to ask him, too, Gran ’pa Jim.” 

“ My dear! ” he remonstrated, “ do you think 
I ought to hazard that man’s sneers and insults, 
even to favor your friend Alora 1 ” 

“ No; I do not, Gran ’pa Jim,” she laughingly 
rejoined. “ That was a foolish suggestion, and 
I withdraw it. If Alora fails, I’ll speak to him 
myself. I’m not afraid of Jason Jones, and he 
doesn’t growl at me as he does at poor Lory.” 

They did not mention the proposal to Alora 


ALORA WINS HER WAY 


151 


until the Colonel had received a telegram from 
Will Morrison saying: u By all means invite 
Miss Jones to join us. Knew her mother, once, 
and will be glad to have her with us.” 

Alora was delighted at the prospect of a yacht- 
ing trip and decided at once that she would go, 
especially as Colonel Hathaway said she would 
be Mary Louise’s guest on the trip to Chicago 
and no money would be needed for expenses. So 
she attacked her father in a somewhat original 
manner. 

Mr. Jones had conceived a passion for flying 
and had just purchased an aeroplane. He was 
to begin his lessons at once and was so thoroughly 
immersed in his strange fancy that he paid little 
heed to anything else. His books were neglected. 
His former quiet life — amounting almost to 
physical inertion — had given place to a nervous 
and all-consuming desire to master the rather 
strenuous art of aviation. Alora was quite 
unaware of this transformation, for as usual 
Jason Jones kept his own counsel and followed 
his inclinations without conference with anyone. 
The girl knew that her father haunted the avia- 
tion field, but anything that kept him amused 
away from home was gratefully approved by her. 


152 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

Usually the two breakfasted together in silence. 
Lately Mr. Jones had hurried through with the 
meal so as to get away, and he did not return 
for lunch. So on this important morning Alora 
said casually: 

“ I’m going away for three or four weeks.’ ’ 

“ Where to? ” he asked sharply, suddenly 
rousing from his abstraction. 

“Pm going on a yachting trip with Mary 
Louise and Colonel Hathaway. We’re to be the 
guests of a Mr. Morrison and his wife, who own 
the yacht.” 

“ Morrison? Morrison? ” he repeated suspi- 
ciously. Then, as if relieved: “ I don’t know 
any Morrisons.” 

“ Nor do I. They are old friends of the Hatha- 
ways and the Conants, however.” 

“ Well, you can’t go. It’s nonsense.” 

“ Why? ” 

“ Yachts are dangerous. I don’t want you 
drowned.” 

“ I’d be as safe on a yacht as I would be in 
this house,” she declared. “ Do you think I 
intend to take any chances with my life? Please 
remember that when I’m eighteen I shall have 
a fortune and be able to lead an independent 


ALORA WINS HER WAY 


153 


life — a pleasant life — a* life in sharp contrast 
to this one. Therefore, I’m going to live to 
enjoy my money.” 

He gave her a shrewd look of approval. The 
argument seemed to appeal to him. It quieted, 
to an extent, his fears for her safety. 

“ Anyhow,” said Alora bluntly, “Pm going, 
and I dare you to stop me.” 

He was silent a while, considering the propo- 
sition. Just now he would be busy at the aviation 
field and in Colonel Hathaway’s charge the girl 
was likely to be quite safe. He was inclined to 
relax his vigilance over his precious daughter, 
on this occasion. 

“ How long do the Hathaways expect to be 
away? ” he inquired. 

“ Mary Louise says we will surely be home 
three weeks from the day we leave.” 

“ Surely? ” 

“Without fail.” 

“ H-m-m. It’s a risk. Something might delay 
you. Ho you know what would happen if you 
left me for sixty days or more? ” 

“ Of course I do. That will of my mother’s 
states that if at any time my devoted father 
develops any neglect of me, or lack of interest 


154 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

in his darling daughter, such as allowing me to 
become separated from him for longer than sixty- 
days at one time, the court has the privilege, at 
its option, of deposing him as administrator of 
my estate and appointing another guardian. The 
other guardian, however, is to be paid a salary 
and the income, in that case, is to accrue to the 
benefit of my estate.’ ’ 

“ How did you learn all that? ” he demanded. 

“ You left a copy of the will lying around, and 
I read it and made a copy of it for myself. I 
now know my mother’s will by heart. She sug- 
gests that if we must live together, 1 in loving 
companionship,’ you will probably have me edu- 
cated by tutors, at home, and her objection to 
girls’ schools — I wonder why? — was the prin- 
cipal reason she inserted the clause that we must 
never be separated. It would prevent you from 
sending me away to school. But as for the 
tutors, I haven’t yet made their acquaintance.” 

u Tutors cost money,” he said in a surly tone. 

“ I realize that; and while there is an abun- 
dance of money, the will states that it is to be 
entirely in your control. But we’ve quarreled on 
that subject too many times already, without 
your loosening your grip on the dollars. To get 


ALORA WINS HER WAY 


155 


back to our subject, I assure you I shall not be 
gone longer than twenty-one days, and the trip 
won’t cost you a single penny.” 

“ When did you propose going? ” 

“ We take the noon train on Monday for 
Chicago.” 

He got his hat and left the house without 
another word, leaving Alora exultant. She 
rushed over to tell Mary Louise the good news. 

“ Did he really consent? ” asked Mary Louise. 

“ Well, he didn’t forbid it,” said the girl, 
“ and that’s the same thing.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 

The train was late getting into Chicago that 
Monday night. Colonel Hathaway took Mary 
Louise and Alora to the Blackington, but the 
hotel was so crowded that the girls could not 
get adjoining rooms. However, they secured 
rooms just across the hall from one another and 
the ColonePs room was but two doors removed 
from that of his granddaughter, so the three 
were not greatly separated. 

“ Never mind, dear,” said Mary Louise, as 
she kissed her friend good night; “ to-morrow 
we go aboard the yacht, and that will be our 
home for a long time.” 

“ What time will you breakfast? ” asked Alora. 

“ Well, we’re up late, and Gran ’pa Jim likes 
to sleep mornings. Can you fast until half-past 
eight, Alora? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” with a laugh. “Pm used to 
somewhat early hours, so I shall probably be 
dressed by seven. But I’ll find plenty to amuse 

156 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


157 


me until you are up, and I ? 11 knock on your door 
at eight- thirty. ’ ’ 

But in the morning Alora failed to knock on 
Mary Louise’s door, as she had promised. The 
Colonel was ready for breakfast, having enjoyed 
a good night’s rest, and Mary Louise said to 
him: 

“ Alora probably slept later than she expected 
to. Shall I risk wakening her, Gran ’pa Jim? ” 

“ I think so,” he replied. “ She has slept 
long enough, for a young girl.” 

Mary Louise ran across the hall and knocked 
at the door of 216. She knocked again, for there 
was no answer. She did not dare call out, for 
fear of disturbing other guests of the hotel. The 
Colonel now came and rapped upon the panels, 
but without any better result. 

“ I think she must have left her room and is 
perhaps in the parlor, or in the hotel lobby,” 
he said. 

A chambermaid was passing through the hall 
and overheard the remark. 

“ The party in 216 has been up a long time, 
sir,” she asserted. “ I found the door ajar at 

six o’clock, and so I went in and made up the 
11 


room. 


158 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

“ Poor Alora! ” exclaimed Mary Louise 
laughingly; “ she was too excited to sleep, and, 
as you say, we shall probably find her somewhere 
about the hotel, enjoying the sights .’ 9 

But they could not find the girl anywhere in 
the hotel. After a long and careful search for 
her, Colonel Hathaway left word at the desk 
that if his room or Mary Louise’s room was 
called, to report that they would be found in the 
breakfast room. 

The old gentleman was distinctly annoyed as 
they sat down to breakfast. 

“ The foolish girl is wandering about the 
streets, somewhere,” he complained, “ and it was 
unmannerly to leave the hotel without consulting 
me, since she is our guest and in my care.” 

Mary Louise’s sweet face wore a troubled 
expression. 

“It is not like Alora, Gran ’pa Jim,” she 
asserted in defense of her friend. “Usually I 
have found her quite considerate.” Then, after 
a pause: “I — I hope nothing has happened 
to her.” 

“ Don’t worry,” he replied. “ She’s a wide- 
awake girl and has a tongue in her head, so 
she can’t get lost. Why, Mary Louise, Alora 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


159 


knows the city well, for she used to live in 
Chicago with her mother.” 

“ Until she was eleven. That was four years 
ago. But I did not think of her getting lost. 
The automobiles, you know, are so thick ’ ’ 

“ Yes, dear; and there’s the lake, and the 
railroad crossings, and the street cars; but the 
chances are against our little friend’s being 
drowned or run over, especially so early in the 
day, when there isn’t much traffic. Again I ask 
you not to worry.” 

But Mary Louise couldn’t help worrying. They 
lingered over the breakfast, but Alora did not 
join them. Then they waited around the hotel 
until nearly noon, without receiving a word from 
her. Finally Colonel Hathaway, too, became 
nervous. He telephoned the central police sta- 
tion to inquire if a young girl of Alora ’s descrip- 
tion had met with an accident. There was no 
record of such an accident, but in half an hour 
a detective came to the hotel and asked for the 
Colonel. 

“ Tell me all the particulars of the young 
lady’s disappearance, please,” he requested. 

When he had received this information he said : 

“ Let us go to her room.” 


160 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

The key to No. 216 had not been turned in at 
the office, but was missing. With a pass-key they 
unlocked the door of Alora’s room and found her 
suit case open, her toilet articles lying upon the 
dresser and her nightrobe neatly folded ready for 
packing. Her hat was missing, however, and the 
little jacket she wore with her tailored suit. 

The detective touched nothing but examined 
the room and its contents with professional care. 

“ Let us call the chambermaid who made up 
the room,” he suggested. 

The woman was easily found and when she 
appeared the detective asked: 

“ Did you fold this nightrobe, or did you find 
it already folded? ” 

“ Why, it was lyin' careless-like over the foot 
of the bed,” said she, “ so I folded it up.” 

“ Why didn't you hang it in the closet? ” 

“ The clerk had notified me the room would be 
vacated to-day. So I knew that when the young 
lady came back she'd want to pack it in her 
grip.” 

“ And at what time did you find the door 
ajar? ” 

“ At six-ten, sir. I come on duty at six.” 

“ You did not see Miss Jones? ” 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


161 


“ No, sir — if that were the lady’s name.” 

“ You found no one prowling about the halls? ” 

“ Didn’t see a soul, sir.” 

“ Thank you; that’s all.” 

When she had gone the detective said to the 
Colonel in a reassuring tone: 

“ I wouldn’t worry, sir, although I’ll admit 
this prolonged absence of Miss Jones is puzzling. 
But perhaps she has gone to call on an old 
friend and will presently return and apologize. 
I remember her mother — a remarkable woman, 
sir — who used to live at the Voltaire. She had 
a lot of friends in Chicago, did Mrs. Antoinette 
Seaver Jones, so it’s likely her daughter is 
looking some of them up.” 

“ I wish you would do all you can to locate 
her,” pleaded Colonel Hathaway. “ The young 
girl was placed in my care by her father and I 
feel personally responsible for her safety.” 

“ She’s safe enough, sir. No sign of a struggle 
in her room ; no report of an accident in the 
city. Went out of her own volition and will 
probably come back the same way, when she’s 
ready. I’m going back to the office now, but I’ll 
instruct our men to keep a good lookout for Miss 
Jones. If we hear anything, I’ll let you know at 


162 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


once. In the meantime, if the girl happens to 
turn up, you must telephone me of the fact.” 
He handed the Colonel his card and went away. 
“ This is dreadful, Gran ’pa Jim! ” exclaimed 
Mary Louise. “ That man can’t help us a bit. 
What do you think we ought to do? ” 

“ Why, we’ve done all in our power, already, 
it seems to me,” he answered. “ The police will 
keep a good lookout for Alora.” 
i ‘ I’ve no confidence in that detective.” 

“ Why not, my dear? He seemed quite cour- 
teous and gentlemanly.” 

“ But he isn’t especially interested. He didn’t 
probe far enough into the case. He never asked 
why the key to Alora ’s door was missing, yet 
the maid found the door ajar — half open,” said 
Mary Louise. “ Would she take the key and 
leave the door open? ” 

‘ ‘ Why — no ; that is strange, Mary Louise. ’ ’ 
“ The detective didn’t inquire at the office 
whether the night clerk had seen Alora, pass 
through and go out. But I inquired, Gran ’pa. 
The night clerk goes off duty at six o ’clock, when 
the relief clerk comes on, but neither saw any 
girl at all leave the office. No one was in the 
hotel lobby, at that hour.” 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


1G3 


“ That is strange, too! How could Alora get 
out, otherwise? ” 

“ I can’t guess. Gran ’pa, I’m going to tele- 
graph Josie O’Gorman, and ask her advice,” 
said Mary Louise. 

“ Do. It’s a good idea. Josie might put us 
on the right track, ’ ’ approved the Colonel. 

So Mary Louise went to the telegraph office in 
the hotel lobby and sent the following message: 
“ Josie O’Gorman, 

1225 F Street, 

Washington, D. C. 

“ A girl friend has mysteriously dis- 
appeared from the Blackington, where 
we are stopping. What shall I do? 

Mary Louise Burrows.” 

Two hours later she received this answer: 

“ Miss Mary Louise Burrows, 

Hotel Blackington, Chicago. 

“ Notify police at once. Keep cool. 

I’m coming. 

Josie O’Gorman.” 

Mary Louise felt tremendously relieved when 
she read this. Josie was a girl of her own age, 
but she was the daughter of one of the most 
celebrated secret service men in the employ of 


164 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


the United States government, and John O’Gor- 
man had trained Josie from babyhood in all the 
occult details of his artful profession. It was 
his ambition that some day this daughter would 
become a famous female detective, but he refused 
to allow her to assume professional duties until 
she had become thoroughly qualified to excel. 
He did not wish her to be ordinary, but extraor- 
dinary, and Josie ? s talents, so far, had seemed 
to justify his expectations. Mary Louise knew 
Josie very well and admired and loved her, for 
in her amateur way Josie had once helped to 
solve a stubborn mystery that threatened the 
happiness of both the old Colonel and his grand- 
daughter, and through this experience the two 
girls had become friends. Josie O’Gorman was 
devoted to Mary Louise, who knew she could rely 
on Josie ’s judgment in this emergency but had 
scarcely expected her to come all the way from 
Washington to Chicago to render her personal 
assistance. 

In appearance the young girl — who was des- 
tined some day to become a great detective — 
was not especially prepossessing. She was short 
of form and inclined to be stout — “chubby,” 
she called herself. She had red hair, a freckled 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


165 


face and a turned-up nose. But her eyes, round 
and blue and innocent in expression as those of a 
baby, dominated her features and to an extent 
redeemed their plainness. 

Mary Louise hurried to the Colonel. 

“ Grandpa Jim,” she cried excitedly, “ Josie is 
coming! ” 

“ That is very good of her,” replied the 
Colonel, highly pleased. “ Josie is very resource- 
ful and while she may not be able to trace Alora 
she will at least do all in her power, and perhaps 
her clever little brain will be able to fathom the 
mystery of the girl’s disappearance.” 

“ She tells us to notify the police, but we did 
that at once. I don’t know of anything else we 
can do, Gran ’pa, until Josie comes.” 

Colonel Hathaway communicated with the 
police office several times that day and found 
the officials courteous but calm — prolific of assur- 
ances, but not especially concerned. This was 
but one of a number of peculiar cases that daily 
claimed their attention. 

“ I should hire a private detective, were not 
Josie coming,” he told Mary Louise; “ but of 
course it is possible we shall hear of Alora, 
directly or indirectly, before morning.” 


166 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


But they did not hear, and both passed a 
miserable, wakeful, anxious night. 

“ There is no use in our consulting Alora ’s 
father, for the present,’ ’ remarked the old gentle- 
man, next morning. “ The news would only 
worry him. You remember how very particular 
he was in charging me to guard his daughter’s 
safety.” 

“ Yes, and I know why,” replied Mary Louise. 
“ Alora has told me that if she is lost, strayed 
or stolen for sixty days, her father might be 
relieved of his guardianship and lose the income 
he enjoys. Now, I wonder, Gran ’pa Jim, if 
Alora has purposely lost herself, with mischie- 
vous intent, so as to get rid of her father, whom 
she abhors? ” 

The Colonel considered this thoughtfully. 

“ I think not,” he decided. “ The girl is 
impulsive and at times reckless, and doubtless 
she would like to be free from her father’s 
guardianship; but I am sure she is too fond of 
you, and has too much respect for me, to run 
away from us without a word. Besides, she has 
no money.” 

“ Really,” said Mary Louise despondently, “ it 
is the strangest thing I ever knew.” 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


167 


Josie O’Gorman arrived at the hotel at six 
o’clock in the afternoon, having caught the fast 
train from Washington the evening before. She 
came in as unconcernedly as if she had lived at 
the hotel and merely been out to attend a matinee 
and greeted the Colonel with a bright smile and 
Mary Louise with a kiss. 

“ My, but I’m hungry! ” were her first words. 
“ I hope you haven’t dined yet? ” 

“ Oh, Josie,” began Mary Louise, on the verge 

of tears, 1 1 this dreadful ’ ’ 

“ I know, dear; but we must eat. And let’s 
not talk or think of the trouble till our stomachs 
are in a comfortable condition. Which way is 
the dining room? ” 

Neither the Colonel nor Mary had eaten much 
since Alora’s disappearance, but they took Josie 
in to dinner, realizing it would be impossible to 
get her to talk seriously or to listen to them 
until she was quite ready to do so. And during 
the meal Josie chattered away like a magpie on 
all sorts of subjects except that which weighed 
most heavily on their minds, and the little thing 
was so bright and entertaining that they were 
encouraged to dine more heartily than they other- 
wise would have done. 


168 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

But afterward, when they had adjourned to a 
suite that had now been given them, and which 
included a cosy little sitting room, and after the 
Colonel had been ordered to light his cigar, which 
always composed his nerves, the O’Gorman girl 
suddenly turned serious and from the depths of 
an easy chair, with her hands clasped behind her 
red head, she said: 

“ Now to business. Begin at the beginning and 
tell me all there is to tell. ^ ^ 

“ Haven’t I written you something about 
Alora, Josie? ” asked Mary Louise. 

“ Never mind whether you have or haven’t. 
Imagine I’ve forgotten it. I want every detail 
of the girl’s history.” 

So Mary Louise told it, with a few comments 
from her grandfather. She began with their first 
meeting with Alora and her eccentric father in 
Italy, and related not only all the details of 
their acquaintance but such facts as Alora had 
confided to her of her mother’s death and her 
subsequent unhappy relations with her father 
and guardian. Alora had often talked freely 
to Mary Louise, venting in her presence much 
bitterness and resentment over her cruel fate — 
as she deemed it. So, knowing Josie’s desire to 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


169 


obtain the most seemingly trifling detail of a 
case, Mary Louise told the story as connectedly 
and comprehensively as possible, avoiding all 
personal comment so as to leave Josie ’s mind 
free from prejudice. 

During the recital Josie sat very still, with 
closed eyes, reclining lazily in her chair and 
refraining from any interruption. 

“ Now, Colonel,” she said, “ tell me all that 
Mary Louise has forgotten to mention.” 

“ She has told you more than I knew myself,” 
he declared. “ Of course we informed the police 
of our friend’s disappearance and they sent a 
detective here who went into the affair very 
carefully. Yet, so far ” 

“ I know,” said Josie, nodding. “ I called at 
the police station before I came here, on leaving 
the train. The detective is Ai Howard, and he’s 
a nice fellow but rather stupid. You mustn’t 
expect any results from that source. To be sure, 
the department might stumble on a clew, but the 
chances are they wouldn’t recognize it, even 
then.” 

“ I’m certainly surprised to hear that! ” said 
the Colonel. 

“ Because you are ignorant of police methods. 


170 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

They mean well, but have so much to handle, in a 
big city like this, that they exist in a state of 
perpetual bewilderment. ’ ’ 

44 But what are we to do? ” pleaded Mary 
Louise. 44 Tell us, Josie! ” 

44 How do I know? ” asked the girl, with a 
smile. “Pm just Josie O’Gorman, a student 
detective, who makes as many blunders — alas! 
— as a full-fledged 4 tec. ’ But I thought I’d be 
able to help, or I wouldn’t have come. I’ve a 
personal interest in this case, Mary Louise, 
because it’s your case and I love you. So let’s 
get to work. Have you a photograph of Alora 
Jones? ” 

44 No,” was the reply. 

44 Then give me a word picture of her.” 

Both Mary Louise and the Colonel tried to do 
this, and Josie seemed satisfied. 

44 Now, then,” she said, rising, 44 let’s go to 
her room. I hope it hasn’t been disturbed since 
she left it.” 

44 The police have taken the key and forbidden 
anyone to enter the room.” 

44 Quite proper. But we’ll go there, just the 
same.” 

The room was but a few steps away, in the 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


171 


same corridor, and when they arrived there 
Josie drew a hunch of slender keys from her 
purse and unlocked the door with no difficulty. 
Having entered, she turned on the electric lights 
and cast a curious glance around. 

“ Let’s read Alora ’s room,” said she, while 
her companions stood listening. * 1 To begin with, 
we see her night-dress nicely folded and her 
toilet articles arranged in neat order on the 
dresser. Chambermaid did that, for Alora is not 
neat. Proving that her stuff was just strewn 
around and the orderly maid put things straight. 
Which leads to the supposition that Alora was 
called away rather suddenly.” 

“ Oh, do you think so? ” 

“ She left the door ajar, but took the key. 
Intended, of course, to lock her room, but was so 
agitated by what she saw or heard that she 
forgot and just walked away.” 

“ But no one saw her leave the hotel,” observed 
Mary Louise. 

“ Then she didn’t pass through the office, but 
through the less used Ladies’ Entrance at the 
side. ’ 9 

u That was not unlocked, they told me, until 
after seven o’clock.” 


172 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

“ Then she left by the servants ’ entrance. ’ ’ 

“ The servants’! ” 

“ Quite likely. You’ll say she didn’t know 
anything about it, or where it was; but the fact 
remains that Alora left the hotel. I’d like to 
see that chambermaid. I believe you told me she 
comes on duty at six o’clock in the morning. All 
right. I’ll catch her at six a. m. to-morrow.” 

“ The detective interviewed her,” stated the 
Colonel. 

“ I know, and she answered all his questions. 
My questions will be different. If Alora used the 
servants’ entrance, she went out with a servant, 
or with someone who knew the ways of the hotel 
intimately. ’ ’ 

I don’t see that,” objected Mary Louise. 

“ Nor do I, but there lies our trail. Alora 
didn’t pass out through the office, nor did she 
make her exit through the less public Ladies’ 
Entrance. There are only two other ways to get 
out of here : through the baggage door and by the 
servants’ entrance at the rear, which lets into an 
alley. The head porter will know whether Alora 
went out the baggage door, but as it’s usually 
very high — on a level with the platform of a 
baggage-wagon — I don’t believe she jumped it. 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


173 


That leaves the servants ’ entrance as the prob- 
able exit for our missing one, and as she was 
a perfect stranger to the arrangements of this 
hotel, she couldn’t have gone that way unless 
someone guided her. So our course is clear, 
Mary Louise. Find out who enticed Alora from 
the hotel and it won’t be difficult to trace her and 
discover what has become of her.” 

“ Enticed, Josie? ” 

“ Had force been used, she would have 
screamed and attracted attention. Let us say 
she was decoyed.” 

“ You think, then, that Alora was kidnapped? ” 

“ Let us reason. The girl couldn’t have had 
an enemy in Chicago, according to her history, 
for she was only eleven when she left here and 
no one hates an eleven year old child. Having 
no enemy, she has doubtless escaped personal 
harm. But -Alora is an heiress, and a lot of 
people in Chicago know that. You suggest kid- 
napping. Well, perhaps that’s the solution: held 
for ransom.” 

“ That would be the first idea of Jason 
Jones!” exclaimed Mary Louise. “ He has 
always seemed afraid of such a thing.” 

“ In that case, however, I do not believe her 


174 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


father would pay a ransom,” declared Colonel 
Hathaway. 

“ Oh, indeed he would! ” asserted Mary 
Louise, emphatically; “ we mustn’t forget that 
if Alora isn’t found and restored to him within 
a given time he will lose all her income for the 
next three years.” 

Josie looked at her friend admiringly. Then 
she laughed. 

‘ ‘ You’re a better detective than any of us,” she 
remarked. “ What I’ve been groping for is the 
object of the abduction, and you’ve hit the nail 
squarely on the head. Now we’re getting down 
to brass tacks, so to speak. The whole thing is 
explained by the one word — i blackmail. ’ Girl 
disappears; papa is threatened with the loss of 
thousands. Very well, Papa! pay up. Relin- 
quish a part of the income and you may keep 
the rest. Refuse, and you lose it all. Ergo, 
papa pays.” 

“ That certainly seems a logical conclusion,” 
admitted the Colonel. 

“ Then,” said Josie, thoughtfully, “ we must 
decide whether to put it up to Mr. Jones, and 
let him pay, or to go on with the search.” 

“ We’ll go on!” exclaimed Mary Louise. 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


175 


“ We may be wrong, and poor Alora may be in 
danger, or suffering. We must rescue her as 
soon as possible.” 

“ The girl was in my care,” said the Colonel, 
“ and I feel responsible for her safety. More- 
over blackmail is a crime against society, and 
the plot should be foiled even were we not 
interested in the victim of it. I am anxious to 
find Alora before her father is approached.” 

“ Then,” Josie decided, “ we will leave no stone 
unturned in our efforts to locate and recover her. 
If we have diagnosed the case correctly, we have 
to deal with a shrewd and unprincipled, if not 
clever person. Cleverness, too, we may encounter, 
and then our task will be doubly hard. ’ ’ 

“ Poor, dear Alora! ” sighed Mary Louise. 
‘ ‘ It’s a shame she should suffer because some 
cruel person wants her father’s money. The for- 
tune her mother left her has been a misfortune 
to her daughter, instead of a blessing.” 

“ Money,” said Josie sententiously, “ is a dan- 
gerous thing. Its possession, or the lack of it, 
leads to four-fifths of the world’s crimes. The 
other one-fifth is charged to hatred and jealousy. 
But — dear me! — here I am philosophizing, 
when I ought to be thinking.” 


176 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Then think, Josie, and think to some pur- 
pose,’ ’ pleaded Mary Louise. 

i ‘ If our hastily constructed theory is correct, ’ ’ 
remarked John 0 ’Gorman’s daughter, “ Papa 
Jones will soon hear from Alora ’s abductor, with 
a financial proposition.” 

“ I hope we shall find her before then,” 
returned the Colonel earnestly. “ We ought 
not to delay an instant, with that idea in 
view. Indeed, our theory may be quite wrong, 
and Alora be in desperate need of immediate 
assistance.” 

“ Correct, sir,” agreed Josie. “ But we won't 
abandon our theory until we evolve a better one, 
and in following this lead we must first discover 
who in Chicago is aware of the terms of the will 
of Antoinette Seaver Jones. Also who is famil- 
iar enough with Papa Jones’ love of money to 
believe he can be successfully blackmailed. What 
information can either of you give me along 
those lines 1 ? ” 

“ Alora has talked to Irene a good deal about 
that dreadful will,” replied Mary Louise, “ and 
Irene has repeated many of her statements to 
me. Also Alora has frankly spoken to me, at 
times, and her queer history has interested us 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 


177 


all. "But I cannot remember that any such per- 
son as yon describe is in any way mixed np with 
the story. Judge Bernsted drew up the will for 
Alora ’s mother. He was her lawyer, and sbe 
trusted him fully.’ ’ 

“ She was justified,” declared Josie. “ I know 
of Judge Bernsted, by reputation. He died a 
year ago.” 

“ Then,” continued Mary Louise, reflectively, 
“ there was Mrs. Jones’ doctor, who was very 
kind to Alora and who also enjoyed her mother’s 
confidence. His name was Anstruther — Dr. 
Anstruther.” 

“ He is a prominent physician in Chicago,” 
declared Josie, who seemed to know every impor- 
tant person of every locality, for this had been 
part of her education. “ It is impossible that 
Dr. Anstruther could have any knowledge of this 
plot. Moreover, it doesn’t seem to me like a 
man’s plot. I don’t believe Alora would have 
accompanied a strange man, under any circum- 
stances, for she’s knocked around the world 
enough to have learned prudence. The crime is 
feminine. What woman knew of this will, and 
was an intimate friend of Mrs. Jones, or of Mr. 
Jones? ” 


.178 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Really/ ’ said Mary Louise, “ I don't know." 

“ Nor you, Colonel? " 

“ I do not recollect hearing of any woman con- 
nected with the Jones history — except Alora’s 
former governess, a Miss Gorham, who was dis- 
charged by Mr. Jones at the time he took his 
daughter from Chicago to New York." 

“ That isn’t such a had clew! " Josie quickly 
returned, sitting up straight and staring reflect- 
ively at the old gentleman. “ Miss Gorham, eh? 
Now, how long had she been Alora’s governess? " 

“ For some years, I believe." It was Mary 
Louise who answered this question. 

“ Then she doubtless knew the family secrets. 
Was Alora fond of her? " 

‘ ‘ I think not. She has told me that at the time 
they separated she was glad to he rid of the 
woman. ’ ’ 

“ Then the woman may he the kind that would 
resort to blackmail. Discharged from a good 
place, where she had drawn pay for years, she 
would he angry. Brooded during the last four 
years on her imagined wrongs and figured out a 
neat revenge. Had sized up Papa Jones and knew 
he clung to money with a desperate grip and 
would pay some rather than lose all. Couldn’t 


THE DISAPPEARANCE 179 

get another job; was poor; had no money to 
chase up Jones, hut figured he would some time 
return to Chicago and give her an opportunity 
to play her game. Discovered that Alora had 

arrived at this hotel, and See here! What 

would prevent the former governess, now in 
reduced circumstances, from being employed as 
a servant in this very hotel! Perhaps as a night 
chambermaid. May have seen Alora enter her 
room and recognized her former pupil. During 
the long night she figured and planned how to 
take advantage of the fortunate circumstances. 
Early in the morning, before she left here, went 
to Alora and in some way induced the girl to go 
out with her. Alora would accompany her old 
governess without suspicion. So — there ’s the 
whole story, in a nutshell, rather cleverly figured 
out.” 

“ Oh, Josie, it must be true! ” cried Mary 
Louise, who had eagerly followed this plausible 
reasoning. 

“ And it may not,” laughed Josie. “ It's just 
a theory, and good detectives distrust theories, 
which often befog clever brains. Still, the deduc- 
tion sounds mighty logical. I’m going to my 
room, now, to give the suggestion some serious 


180 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


thought. I’ll try to tear it to pieces, or at least 
to pick holes in it. When I came away Daddy 
said to me: ‘ Josie, beware that imagination of 
yours. If it asserts itself, sit on it . 9 Daddy was 
glad to have me tackle the case, and try to help 
you, for these little affairs give me practice; but 
he hates to have me make a flat failure. So, for 
dear old Daddy’s sake, I’m not going to let any 
good-looking theory lead me astray. Good night. 
You’d both better go to bed, for I can see you had 
little sleep last night. But your strain must now 
relax, for you’ve pushed the responsibility onto 
my poor little shoulders and now it’s up to me to 
worry.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


ON THE TRAIL 

Josie O’Gorman loved mysteries for their own 
sake. She loved them because they required 
solutions, and to solve a mystery is not only 
interesting hut requires a definite amount of 
talent. Since she was a wee thing perched on 
her father’s knee, Officer O’Gorman had flooded 
her ears with the problems he daily encountered, 
had turned the problems inside out and can- 
vassed them from every possible viewpoint, ques- 
tioning the child if this, or that, was most prob- 
able. By this odd method he not only enjoyed 
the society of his beloved daughter but argued 
himself, through shrewd reasoning, into a lucid 
explanation of many puzzling cases. To his 
pleased surprise, as little Josie grew older she 
began to answer his questions, taking a part in 
his professional arguments with himself, and 
from that time her training as a detective began. 

John O’Gorman had never been quite sure 
whether his fatherly adoration unduly influenced 


181 


182 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


him or whether Josie was indeed an exceptionally 
talented girl; so, having firmly determined to 
train her to become a girl detective, he had so 
far held her in leash, permitting her to investi- 
gate various private cases but refusing to place 
her in professional work — such as the secret 
service — until she had gained experience and 
acquired confidence in herself. Confidence was 
the one thing Josie lacked most. She took her 
mistakes too much to heart. 

The girl was full of enthusiasm, however, and 
now meant to untangle the mystery of Alora 
Jones if it were possible to do so, both to please 
Mary Louise and to enjoy the satisfaction of 
success. After saying good night to her friends, 
and before going to her own room, the girl wan- 
dered about the big hotel making casual inquiries 
and obtaining more or less useful information. 
Aiterward, she sat in her room and arranged in 
her mind the complete history of Alora, so far 
as she was informed of it, and made notes of 
all facts which seemed to bear on the present 
problem. 

Next morning she inquired for the housekeeper 
and found that lady seated in her little office on 
the third floor of the hotel. 


ON THE TRAIL 


183 


“ Pm trying to trace one of the servants who 
left you Monday night, or early Tuesday morn- 
ing,” she said, after informing the woman that 
she was engaged in tracing the missing girl, 
Alora Jones. “ I am not sure what name you 
knew her by, but her real name was Gorham.” 

“ No one has left us this week,” returned the 
housekeeper, who seemed disposed to converse 
freely with her visitor. 

“ Are you sure of that! ” 

“ Why, I’m positive. We treat our help well 
and they seldom leave us. I’m sure no woman 
employed in this hotel, down to the lowest kitchen 
scullion, has resigned or been discharged during 
the last few days.” 

“ And there is no one still in your service 
named Gorham? ” 

“ No one. It’s an unusual name and I should 
have remembered it.” 

“ Do any of the guests ever use the servants’ 
entrance? ” 

“ Certainly not. It is reserved exclusively for 
the employees. Some of our guests have private 
maids, who occasionally use the rear entrances, 
and Mrs. Tolliver’s trained nurses are allowed to 
pass out that way, too; but ” 


184 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


She stopped abruptly, as if some new thought 
had occurred to her. 

“ What is it? ” asked Josie, who was watching 
her face. 

“ Why, I have just recollected that Mrs. Tol- 
liver’s night nurse did not show up Tuesday 
evening, for some reason, and they were obliged 
to telephone for another.” 

“ Who is Mrs. Tolliver? ” 

“ One of our permanent guests, who is suffer- 
ing just now from a severe attack of rheumatism. 
She employs two trained nurses, a day nurse and 
a night nurse.” 

“ And the night nurse left her post Tuesday 
morning and did not return in the evening, as 
she was expected to do? ” 

“ That’s it, miss. Mrs. Tolliver was greatly 
annoyed, but fortunately she was able to secure 
another nurse at once.” 

“ What was the nurse’s name — the one who 
abandoned her job without notice? ” 

“ Let me see. It wasn’t Gorham. I’ll call 
Alice, my assistant; I feel quite sure that she 
will know.” 

Alice promptly answered the bell and on being 
questioned said: 


ON THE TRAIL 


185 


“ The nurse was Mrs. Orme. She’d been with 
Mrs. Tolliver ever since she was took sick, and 
was the best nurse she’s had.” 

“ Why did she leave? ” asked Josie. 

“ I don’t know, miss, I’m sure. She were a 
quiet body, never sayin’ much to no one. But 
quite ladylike, she were, an’ most of us liked 
her. ’ ’ 

“ Can you describe her? ” 

“ Well, she isn’t tall — not so very tall, you 
know — an’ she’s got a good form an’ good 
manners. I take it she’s about thirty-five, an’ 
handsome for her age. Good eyes, but mostly 
looks down an’ don’t show ’em. Very neat an’ 
tidy. Brown hair. She wore gray clothes, you 
know — the reg’lar nurse’s uniform.” 

“ Do you know where Mrs. Orme lives? ” 

“ No, miss; haven’t the faintest idea.” 

“ Who is Mrs. Tolliver’s doctor? ” 

“ The house physician, Dr. Pease. His office 
is No. 633, in this hotel.” 

“ Thank you, Alice.” 

Josie hunted up Mary Louise. 

“ Have you ever heard that a trained nurse 
named Mrs. Orme is in any way connected with 
Alora’s history? ” she asked. 


186 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ No; I’m pretty sure Alora has never men- 
tioned such a person. What about her, Josie? ” 

u I think Alora went away with her. Have 
you any description of Miss Gorham, the 
governess? ” 

“ Not especially,’ ’ said Mary Louise, trying to 
remember. “ Alora has sometimes referred to 
her as ‘ Old Skinny,’ but that doesn’t mean 
anything. ’ ’ 

“ It means she isn’t Mrs. Orme, anyhow,” 
answered Josie, in a disappointed tone. 

Mary Louise considered this in her usual care- 
ful way. She would like to help Josie, if she 
could. 

“ Who do you suppose this Mrs. Orme could 
be? ” she presently asked. 

“ Some one whom Alora knew years ago, when 
her mother was alive. Of course her name may 
not have been Orme, then, and she may not have 
been a trained nurse. That’s why I was inclined 
to connect her with Gorham.” 

“ W 7 ait a minute, Josie! A nurse, do you say? 
Why, I remember something about a nurse, now 
— • Alora ’s mother’s nurse. WTien we were in 
Italy, where I first knew Alora, she told me that 
her father, at one time when they lived in New 


ON THE TRAIL 


187 


York, had been forced to give money to a woman, 
and Alora believed he had left America to escape 
this person’s further demands. When I asked 
who the woman was, she said it was her mother’s 
nurse; but I’m pretty sure she didn’t mention 
her name.” 

Josie’s freckled face now wore a broad smile. 

“ How simple any enigma proves when you 
have the key,” she remarked, with an air of 
relief. “ The mystery is solved, my dear! It’s 
all as easy as A. B. C.” 

“ In that case,” said Mary Louise, more mys- 
tified than ever , i 1 kindly oblige me with the key. ’ ’ 

“ With pleasure. You haven’t given me much 
time to forge a chain, so I’ll add each link as it 
occurs to me. Mrs. Jones, during her last ill- 
ness, had a nurse; a good nurse, too, in whom 
she had confidence. When Mrs. Jones sent for 
her husband, from whom she had been estranged, 
the nurse was aware of the action. When the 
husband came — Alora ’s father — without doubt 
the nurse remained in the sick room during the 
interview. Husband and wife quarreled, instead 
of making up — this guess is justified by the 
man’s disagreeable disposition — and Mrs. Jones 
hastily wrote a codicil to her will and gave it 


188 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


into the nurse’s keeping, with instructions to 
deliver it to her lawyer. Then the poor lady, 
over-excited, lay back and died, and the man — 
Jason Jones — realized that his lack of diplo- 
macy had euchred him out of a big income for 
seven years. But he put up a job with the nurse, 
who held his fate in her hands in the shape of a 
scrap of paper. If she’d give him that codicil — 
no! that isn’t right — if she’d keep it to herself 
and not let anyone know of its existence, Mr. 
Jones proposed to give her a share of the money. 
She considered this easier than working and the 
bargain was struck. Isn’t that a logical chain 
of events, so far, Mary Louise? ” 

“ But what a terrible thing to do, Josie! ” 
“Yes, human nature in its worst aspect — 
selfishness, greed, unscrupulousness — and still 
human nature. Well, the woman followed him 
to New York and got some of the money, as 
Alora said; but the nurse wanted more, and was 
likely to bleed the man more liberally than he 
liked; so, being afraid of her, he ran away to 
Europe. Nurse spent her money, couldn’t find 
Jason Jones to get more, and so returned to 
Chicago and practiced her profession again. 
Any dummy could figure that out.” 


ON THE TRAIL 


189 


“ I cannot see,” responded Mary Louise, 
“ how that accounts for Alora’s disappearance.” 

“ Why, of course the woman knew all about 
the terms of the will. She was nursing a Mrs. 
Tolliver in this hotel when she discovered Alora’s 
arrival. How she discovered it doesn’t matter. 
In the morning, when the day nurse arrived to 
take her place, she left Mrs. Tolliver and went 
directly to Alora’s room. The girl instantly rec- 
ognized her and would probably have a warm 
place in her heart for her mother’s old nurse. 
Decided to walk part of the way home with her 
so they could talk over old times — you and the 
Colonel being still asleep — but was enticed to 
the nurse’s house and promptly locked up and 
held as a weapon to force old Jones to pay up. 
This completes the chain. A woman who would 
enter into such an ugly deal with Jason Jones 
as I have described would not hesitate to cap- 
ture Alora, especially as it proved an easy thing 
to do.” 

Mary Louise drew a long breath. 

“ If I could believe that theory, Josie,” she 
said, ‘ ‘ it would relieve me of much worry, for 
I’d know Alora is safe. But — what was it your 
father said about your imagination? ” 


190 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Josie laughed. 

“ This isn’t wholly imagination, you goose, for 
it’s based on a knowledge of human nature, as 
I’ve hinted. Also it’s a scientific matching of the 
pieces in the puzzle. Why, Mary Louise, in this 
deduction we have all the necessary elements of 
the usual crime. A woman — always look for a 
woman in a mystery, my dear — money, the 
cause of four-fifths of all crimes, and a guilty 
man who is afraid of being forced to disgorge 
his ill-gotten gains. Then we will add an inno- 
cent girl who suffers through the machinations 
of others. Some of my conclusions may not be 
exactly correct, hut in the main the story is 
absolutely logical.” 

“ That’s what you said last night, Josie, when 
you thought the governess, Gorham, had abducted 
Alora. ’ ’ 

“ True, but I have later information which 
doesn’t entirely upset the theory but changes the 
actors in the drama. I don’t say that further 
investigations may not alter this present plot in 
some of its details, but the main facts are too 
lucid and undeniable to get far away from. I’m 
now going to interview the house physician and 
get Mrs. Orme’s address.” 


ON THE TRAIL 


191 


When she had gone, Mary Louise went to 
Gran ’pa Jim with the tale of Josie ’s latest dis- 
coveries and Colonel Hathaway was so impressed 
by the theory that he decided to telegraph Peter 
Conant to catch the noon train and come straight 
to Chicago. 

“ The complications suggested by Josie will 
require a lawyer’s advice,” he said, “ and Mr. 
Conant knows law and can advise us how to 
handle the case when we have discovered where 
Alora is confined.” 

Meanwhile Josie went to the doctor’s office and 
after waiting some time, was finally admitted to 
his private room. 

“ I came to ask for the address of a trained 
nurse — a Mrs. Orme — whom you recommended 
to Mrs. Tolliver,” she began, her innocent eyes 
regarding the physician gravely. 

Dr. Pease frowned. 

“ I cannot recommend her again,” said he. 
“ Although she’s a good nurse, she is unreliable, 
and left my patient without notice when she was 
badly needed.” 

“ I merely want to find her,” declared Josie. 
“I’m a stranger in town and I’ve a letter of 
introduction to Mrs. Orme.” 


192 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


u I don’t know her address. I got the woman 
through Dr. Anstruther.” 

‘ i Oh. May I telephone Dr. Anstruther, then? ’ 9 
“ I’ve no objection. There’s a telephone in 
the outer office. But you’re not likely to catch 
him much before noon. Dr. Anstruther is a very 
busy man.” 

Josie went to her own room to telephone. She 
telephoned Dr. Anstruther ’s office at intervals all 
the morning, but did not succeed in getting him 
until nearly two o’clock. Then he answered that 
he did not know Mrs. Orme’s address, having 
always secured her services through the Sisters’ 
Hospital. 

Josie tried the Sisters’ Hospital and learned 
that Mrs. Orme lived in an apartment at 5243 
Morgan Avenue. She took a taxicab and drove 
there, determining to obtain an interview with 
the woman by posing as a nurse who desired 
assistance in securing employment. But disap- 
pointment confronted her. Mrs. Orme had moved 
from the apartment ten days ago and her present 
address was unknown. 

“ She has taken considerable pains to cover 
her traces,” said Josie to Mary Louise, when 
she returned from her futile trip. 


ON THE TRAIL 


193 


“ I hope you’re not discouraged, dear,” 
returned Mary Louise anxiously. “ The local 
detectives have done nothing at all, so you are 
our only hope, Josie.” 

The embryo detective smiled sweetly. 

“ I’m not here on a pleasure trip,” she said, 
“ although I enjoy travel and good hotel fodder 
as well as anyone. This is business, but so far 
I’m just feeling my way and getting a start. 
You can’t open a mystery as you do a book, 
Mary Louise ; it has to be pried open. The very 
fact that this Mrs. Orme has so carefully con- 
cealed her hiding-place is assurance that she’s 
the guilty party who abducted Alora. Being 
positive of that, it only remains to find her — 
not an impossibility, by any means — and then 
we shall have no difficulty in liberating her 
prisoner. ’ ’ 

“ But to find her; can you do that, Josie? ” 

“ Certainly, with a little help from the police, 
which they will gladly furnish. They know I’m 
Daddy’s daughter, for I have already introduced 
myself to them, and while they may be slow to 
take the initiative they are always quite willing 
to aid in an affair of this sort. Now, it stands 
to reason, Mary Louise, that the nurse didn’t 


194 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


use the streets to promenade with Alora. That 
would have been dangerous to her plans. There 
are so few people abroad in Chicago at six 
o’clock in the morning that those who met the 
two would have noted and remembered them. 
For the same reason Mrs. Orme did not take a 
street car, or the elevated. Therefore, she took 
a cab, and the cabman who drove them will know 
Mrs. Orme’s address.” 

“ But who was the cabman? ” asked Mary 
Louise. 

“ That,” said Josie, “ is to be my next 
discovery.” 


CHAPTEE XIX 


DECOYED 

The excitement of being once more in a big 
city rendered Alora Jones wakeful on that event- 
ful Tuesday morning following her arrival in 
Chicago. At daybreak she rose and peered 
through the window into a gray and unimpres- 
sive side street ; then, disinclined to return to 
bed, she slowly began dressing. 

Presently a sharp knock sounded upon her 
door. Somewhat surprised, she opened it far 
enough to see a middle-aged woman attired in 
a nurse’s uniform standing in the dim hallway. 

“ Miss Jones! Miss Alora Jones! ” ques- 
tioned the woman in a soft voice. 

“ Yes; what is it! ” 

c 6 I’ve a message for you. May I come in! ” 

Alora, fearful that Mary Louise or the Colonel 
might have been taken suddenly ill, threw wide 
the door and allowed the woman to enter. As 
the nurse closed the door behind her Alora 
switched on the electric light and then, facing 
195 


196 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

her visitor, for the first time recognized her and 
gave a little cry of surprise. 

“ Janet! ” 

“Yes; I am Janet Orme, your mother’s 
nurse.” 

“ But I thought you abandoned nursing after 
you made my father give you all that money,” 
an accent of scorn in her tone. 

“ I did, for a time,” was the quiet answer. 
“ ‘ All that money ’ was not a great sum; it was 
not as much as your father owed me, so I soon 
took up my old profession again.” 

The woman’s voice and attitude were meek 
and deprecating, yet Alora’s face expressed dis- 
trust. She remembered Janet’s jaunty insolence 
at her father’s studio and how she had dressed 
extravagantly and attended theatre parties and 
fashionable restaurants, scattering recklessly the 
money she had exacted from Jason Jones. Janet, 
with an upward sweep of her half veiled eyes, 
read the girl’s face clearly, but she continued in 
the same subdued tones : 

“ However, it is not of myself I came here to 
speak, but on behalf of your mother’s old friend, 
Doctor Anstruther.” 

“Oh; did he send you here? ” 


DECOYED 


197 


“ Yes. I am his nurse, just now. He has 
always used me on his important cases, and now 
I am attending the most important case of all 
— his own.” 

“ Is Dr. Anstruther ill, then? ” asked Alora. 

“ He is dying. His health broke weeks ago, as 
you may have heard, and gradually he has grown 
worse. This morning he is sinking rapidly; we 
have no hope that he will last through the day. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, Pm sorry for that! ” exclaimed Alora, 
who remembered the kindly old doctor with real 
affection. He had been not only her mother’s 
physician but her valued friend. 

“ He learned, quite by accident, of your arrival 
here last evening ,’ 9 Janet went on, “ and so he 
begged me to see you and implore you to come 
to his bedside. I advised him not to disturb you 
until morning, but the poor man is very restless 
and so I came here at this unusual hour. It 
seems he is anxious to tell you some secret which 
your dead mother confided to his keeping and, 
realizing his hours are numbered, he urges you 
to lose no time in going to him. That is the 
message entrusted to me.” 

There was no emotion in her utterance; the 
story was told calmly, as by one fulfilling a mis- 


198 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

sion but indifferent as to its success. Alora did 
not hesitate. 

“ How far is it? ” she quickly asked. 

“ A fifteen minute ride.” 

The girl glanced at her watch. It was not 
quite six o’clock. Mary Louise and the Colonel 
would not appear for breakfast for a good two 
hours yet and after breakfast they were all to go 
to the yacht. The hour was opportune, afford- 
ing her time to visit poor Doctor Anstruther and 
return before her friends were up. Had Alora 
paused to give Janet’s story more consideration 
she might have seen the inconsistencies in the 
nurse’s statements, but her only thoughts were 
to learn her mother’s secret and to show her 
sincere consideration for her kindly old friend. 

Hastily completing her attire she added her 
hat and jacket and then said: 

“ I am ready, Janet.” 

* c I hope we shall find him still alive, ’ ’ 
remarked the nurse, a cleverly assumed anxiety 
in her tone, as she took the key from inside the 
door and fitted it to the outer side of the lock. 

Alora passed out, scarcely aware that Janet 
had pretended to lock the door. Halfway down 
the hall the woman handed her the key. 


DECOYED 


199 


“ Come this way, please,” she said; “ it is 
nearer to the carriage which is waiting for us.” 

At the rear of the building they descended the 
stairs and passed through an anteroom fitted 
with lockers for the use of the employees of the 
hotel. No one happened to be in the anteroom 
at that moment and they gained the alley with- 
out encountering a single person. Janet quickly 
led the girl through the alley and soon they came 
to a closed automobile which evidently awaited 
them. Janet opened the door for Alora and fol- 
lowed the girl inside the car, which started at 
once and sped along the quiet streets. 

“ You will find Doctor Anstruther very 
feeble,” said the nurse, “ for he has suffered 
greatly. But I am sure it will give him pleasure 
to see you again. I hope he will recognize you. 
I scarcely recognized you, myself, you have 
changed so much since last we saw you at the 
Voltaire. Your resemblance to your mother is 
quite marked, however.” 

And so, during the ride, she kept up a flow 
of desultory conversation, intended to distract 
Alora *s attention from the section of the city 
through which they were passing. She spoke of 
Dr. Anstruther, mostly, and answered such ques- 


200 MAEY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTEKY 


tions as Alora put to her in a calm, unemotional 
manner well calculated to allay suspicion. The 
woman kept her eyes veiled by her lashes, as of 
yore, but her face seemed to have aged and 
grown harder in its lines. There was no hint 
now of her former gay life in New York; she 
had resumed the humble tones and manners 
peculiar to her profession, such as Alora remem- 
bered were characteristic of her at the time she 
nursed her mother. 

“ This is the place,’ ’ said Janet, as the car 
came to a stop. “ Let us move softly, as noise 
disturbs my patient.” 

Alora had paid no attention to the direction 
they had driven but on leaving the car she found 
herself facing a three-storied brick flat building 
of not very prepossessing appearance. There 
were several vacant lots on either side of this 
building, giving it a lonely appearance, and in 
the lower windows were pasted placards: “ To 
Let.” 

“Oh; does Doctor Anstruther live here? ” 
asked Alora, somewhat astonished. 

Without seeming to have heard the question 
Janet mounted the steps and opened the front 
door with a latch-key. Alora followed her inside 


DECOYED 


201 


and up two dingy flights to the third floor. Once 
she started to protest, for the deadly silence of 
the place impressed her with a vague foreboding 
that something was amiss, but Janet silenced her 
with a warning finger on her lips and on reach- 
ing the upper landing herself avoided making a 
noise as she cautiously unlocked the door. She 
stood listening a moment and then entered and 
nodded to the girl to follow. 

They were in a short, dark passage which 
separated the landing from the rooms of the flat. 
Janet closed the outer door, startling her com- 
panion with the sharp “ click ” it made, and 
quickly opened another door which led into a 
shabby living room at the front of the building. 
Standing just within this room, Alora glanced 
around with the first real sensation of suspicion 
she had yet experienced. Janet raised her lids 
for a sweeping view of the girl’s face and then 
with a light laugh began to remove her own 
cloak and cap, which she hung in a closet. 

“ Come, child, make yourself at home,” she 
said in a mocking, triumphant voice, as she 
seated herself in a chair facing the bewildered 
girl. “ I may as well inform you that this is 
to be your home for some time to come — until 


202 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Jason Jones decides to rescue you. You won’t 
object, I hope? Don’t get nervous and you’ll 
find your quarters very comfortable, if retired.” 

Alora, understanding now, first shuddered, 
then grew tense and cast a hurried glance at 
the hall door behind her. 

“ Have you lied to me, Janet? ” she demanded. 

“ Yes.” 

“ And this is a trap? Doctor Anstruther is 
not sick? He did not send for me? He is not 
here? ” 

“ You have guessed correctly, Alora.” 

The girl wheeled and in a quick run reached 
the door to the landing. It was fast locked. 

“Help!” she cried, and stopped to listen; 
“ help! help! ” 

“ Come in and take off your things,” called 
Janet, undisturbed by the outcry. “ This build- 
ing hasn’t a soul in it but ourselves, and you 
may yell for help until you are hoarse without 
being heard. But don’t be frightened. I’m not 
going to hurt you. In fact, I’d like to make 
your confinement as cheerful as possible. Can’t 
you understand the truth — that I am simply 
holding your person in order to force Jason 
Jones to pay the money he owes me? ” 


CHAPTER XX 


janet's triumph 

Alora stood by the door, irresolute, wondering 
what to do. It occurred to her that she was 
not much afraid of Janet Orme. She had been 
trapped in order to bleed her father of money; 
it was all her father's fault — his fault and 
Janet's. 

“ Suppose you help me get* our breakfast," 
suggested the nurse, coolly. “ It will take your 
mind off your trouble and keep you from brood- 
ing. I admit I'm hungry, and I'm sure you'll 
feel better for a cup of coffee." 

She passed into another room, as she spoke, 
and Alora, realizing the hall door could not be 
forced by her puny strength, advanced into the 
living room. There were three other doorways 
opening from this apartment. She could hear 
Janet rattling dishes and pans, so the way she 
had gone led into the kitchen. The other two 
doors she found gave entrance to small bed- 
rooms, neither having egress other than through 

203 


204 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


the living room. The furniture in all the rooms 
was cheap and tawdry but fairly comfortable. 

Alora sat down and tried to collect her 
thoughts. Janet got the breakfast unaided and 
then came to summon her. Alora quietly walked 
into the kitchen and sat down at a little table 
spread for two. There was a dish of crisp bacon, 
some toast and coffee. Alora silently ate and 
drank, determined to maintain her strength. 
Having finished her meal she sat back and asked : 

“ Do you mind explaining what all this 
means? ” 

“ No, indeed; I’m glad to explain,” replied 
the woman, raising her eyelids an instant to 
flash a glance of approval at her prisoner. “ I 
have already said that I was obliged to annoy 
you in order to reach your father. The dear 
father is an elusive person, you know, and is 
determined to avoid paying the money he owes 
me. I haven’t been able to locate him, lately, 
but I have located you, and you are mighty 
precious to him because if he loses you he loses 
the income from your fortune. Therefore it is 
my intention to hold you here until Jason Jones 
either pays my demands or allows the probate 
court to deprive him of his guardianship. The 


JANET’S TRIUMPH 


205 


• proposition is really very simple, as yon see.” 

“ Still,” said Alora, u I do not quite under- 
stand. How did you know of my value to my 
father? ” 

“ I witnessed your mother’s will,” was the 
reply. 

Alora remembered that this was true. 

“ But why does my father still owe you 
money? You were paid for nursing my mother. 
And, if your demands are merely blackmail, why 
does not my father defy you? ” 

“I’ll tell you,” answered Janet. “ It is a bit 
of ancient history, but it may interest you. Your 
mother renounced your father when you were 
scarcely a year old. I met Jason Jones soon 
afterward, and believing, — as your own deluded 
mother did — that he would become a great 
artist, I gambled with him on his career. In 
other words, I supported Jason Jones with all 
my earnings as a nurse for a period of six years 
and in return he signed an agreement which 
states that one-half of all the money he received 
in the future, from whatever source, must be 
paid to me in return for my investment. Doubt- 
less we both thought, at the time, that any money 
he got would come from the sale of his pictures ; 


206 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


neither could have dreamed that your mother 
would call him to her on her death-bed and pre- 
sent him with your income until you came of 
age — seven years’ control of a fortune, with no 
other obligation than to look after a child and 
keep her with him. But the agreement between 
us covered even that astonishing event. Imagine, 
if you can, Jason Jones’ amazement when he 
entered your mother’s sick chamber to find me 
— his partner — acting as her nurse. He was 
also annoyed, for he realized I knew the terms 
of the will and would demand my share of his 
income. Can you blame me? He hadn’t made 
good as an artist and this was my only chance 
to get back some of the hard earned savings I 
had advanced him. But Jason Jones isn’t 
square, Alora; he’s mean and shifty, as perhaps 
you have discovered. He gave me some money 
at first, when I followed him to New York, as 
you know; but after that the coward ran away. 
That provoked me and made me determined to 
run him down. I traced him to Europe and fol- 
lowed him there, but he evaded me for a full 
year, until my money was gone and I was forced 
to return to America. For nearly three years 
longer I worked as a nurse and hoarded my 


JANET’S TRIUMPH 


207 


earnings. Then, through yonr father's banker 
in New York I managed to learn his address. 
The banker didn't tell me, but I did a little spy 
work and in the bank's mail I found a letter in 
Jason Jones' handwriting postmarked i Positano, 
Italy.' That was all the clew I needed and I 
went to Italy and soon located my man. I faced 
him in his own villa — I believe you were away 
at the time — and when he found he was caught 
he cringed and begged for mercy and promised 
to give me all that belonged to me. He said he 
had a lot of gold in his possession and he would 
pay me partly in gold and partly in drafts on 
his New York banker. Then he left the room to 
get the gold and returned with a husky Italian 
servant who seized and bound me and threw me 
into a stone house used to store grapes, where I 
was kept a prisoner for nearly ten days and 
treated like a dog. 

“ Finally the Italian released me, asserting 
that Jason Jones was on his way to America. 
I followed as soon as I could get passage in a 
ship, but your clever father had left New York 
before I arrived there and I could not discover 
where he had hidden himself. Once more he had 
beaten me." 


208 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Her voice was Lard and angry. Alora was 
tempted to believe tbe story, for many of its 
details sbe knew were true. She remembered, 
for one thing, that queer letter from Silvio which 
she had discovered tucked inside one of her 
father’s books. It stated that, according to 
orders, the Italian had “ released the prisoner.” 
So the prisoner had been Janet, and Alora could 
well understand her determination to secure 
revenge. 

“ It seems to me,” she said, “ that you should 
have taken your contract with my father to a 
lawyer, and brought suit to recover the money 
due you. Surely that would have been the easiest 
way to collect it.” 

Janet’s face grew red; her lashes dropped still 
further over the eyes ; but she answered after an 
instant’s pause: 

“ I do not wish the world to know what a fool 
I was to support an imitation artist for six long 
years. A lawsuit means publicity, and I have a 
little pride left, I assure you. Besides,” collect- 
ing her thoughts as she spoke, “ I cannot see the 
wisdom of dividing my share with a lawyer when 
I can bring your father to terms myself. I know 
I have executed a bold stroke in seizing you and 


JANET’S TRIUMPH 


209 


making you my prisoner, but it’s a stroke that’s 
bound to win. It was conceived last night, on 
the spur of the moment. Lately I have been 
nursing in Chicago, where I am better known 
than in New York and can get better wages. 
Since my return from Italy I’ve been saving to 
renew the search for Jason Jones. While nurs- 
ing a Mrs. Tolliver at the Hotel Blackington, 
fortune suddenly smiled on me. I chanced to 
examine the hotel register last night and found 
you were registered with Colonel Hathaway’s 
party. Your room number was marked opposite 
your name, so I had you properly located. Dur- 
ing the night, while on duty in Mrs. Tolliver’s 
room, I had ample time to figure out a plan of 
action. I knew you were fond of old Doctor 
Anstruther and so used his name for a lure. I 
had already rented this flat; not with the idea 
of using it for a prison, but because it was 
cheap and so isolated that I could sleep during 
the daytime without being disturbed. I believe 
that’s all that I need explain to you. Our little 
adventure of this , morning you will now be able 
to understand perfectly. Also you will under- 
stand the fact that you must remain a prisoner 
until my purpose is accomplished. I’m sorry for 


210 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


you, but it can’t be helped. Won’t you have 
another cup of coffee, Alora? ” 

Alora had no answer ready. Janet’s story did 
not satisfy her; she felt that somewhere there 
was a flaw in it; but she decided to bide her 
time. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE PRICE OF LIBERTY 

Alora, being in the main a sensible girl, strove 
to make the best of her unpleasant predicament. 
She longed to notify Mary Louise that she was 
safe and well and in answer to her pleadings 
Janet agreed she might write a letter to that 
effect, with no hint that she was imprisoned or 
where she could be found, and the nurse would 
mail it for her. So Alora wrote the letter and 
showed it to Janet, who could find no fault with 
its wording and promised to mail it when she 
went out to market, which she did every morning, 
carefully locking her prisoner in. It is perhaps 
needless to state that the letter never reached 
Mary Louise because the nurse destroyed it 
instead of keeping her agreement to mail it. 
Letters can be traced, and Janet did not wish to 
be traced just then. 

The days dragged by with little excitement. 
Alora sought many means of escape but found 
none practical. Once, while Janet was unlocking 
211 


212 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

tL© hall door to go to market, the girl made a 
sudden dash to get by her and so secure her 
freedom; but the woman caught her arm and 
swung her back so powerfully that Alora fell 
against the opposite wall, bruised and half 
stunned. She was no match for Janet in 
strength. 

“ I’m sorry,” said Janet complacently, “ but 
you brought it on yourself. I’m not brutal, but 
I won’t be balked. Please remember, my girl, 
that to me this is a very important enterprise 
and I’ve no intention of allowing you to defeat 
my plans.” 

Usually the woman was not unpleasant in her 
treatment of Alora, but conversed with her 
frankly and cheerfully, as if striving to relieve 
her loneliness. 

“ Have you written to my father about me? ” 
the girl asked one day. 

“ Not yet,” was the reply. “ I don’t even 
know where Jason Jones may be found, for you 
haven’t given me his address. But there’s no 
hurry. You have been missing only a week, so 
far. Jason Jones has doubtless been notified of 
your disappearance and is beginning to worry. 
Of course he will imagine I am responsible for 


THE PRICE OF LIBERTY 


213 


this misfortune and his alarm will grow with the 
days that pass. Finally, when his state of mind 
becomes desperate, you will give me his address 
and he will hear from me. I shall have no 
trouble, at that crisis, in bringing my dishonest 
partner to terms.’ ’ 

“ I can’t see the object of waiting so long,” 
protested Alora. “ How long do you intend to 
keep me here? ” 

“ I think you should remain missing about 
fifty days, during which time they will search 
for you in vain. Your father’s search for you 
will include a search for me, and I’ve figured 
on that and defy him to find me. The Sisters’ 
Hospital, the only address known to the physi- 
cians who employ me, believe I’ve gone to some 
small Indiana town on a case, but I neglected to 
give them the name of the town. So there’s a 
blind lead that will keep my pursuers busy with- 
out their getting anywhere. It’s easy to hide 
in a big city. Here you are very safe, Alora, 
and discovery is impossible.” 

Janet had abandoned her nurse’s costume from 
the first day of the girl’s imprisonment. When 
she went out, which was only to a near-by market 
and grocery, she wore an unobtrusive dress. 


214 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Every day seemed more dreary to Alora than 
the last. She soon became very restless under 
her enforced confinement and her nerves, as well 
as her general health, began to give way. She 
had been accustomed to out-of-door exercise, and 
these rooms were close and “ stuffy ” because 
Janet would not allow the windows open. 

For twelve days and nights poor Alora con- 
stantly planned an escape, only to abandon every 
idea she conceived as foolish and impractical. 
She looked forward to fifty days of this life with 
horror and believed she would go mad if forced 
to endure her confinement so long. 


CHAPTER XXII 


A COMPROMISE 

“ If I had any money of my own,” Alora said 
to Janet Orme on the morning of the twelfth 
day of imprisonment, “ I would gladly pay it to 
be free.” 

Janet flashed a quick glance at her. 

“ Do you mean that? ” she asked with ill- 
suppressed eagerness. 

“ I do, indeed,” declared the girl, moaning 
dismally; “ but I never have a cent to call my 
own.” 

Janet sat still, for some time, thinking. 

“ I, too, wish you were free,” she admitted, 
resuming the conversation, “ for my position as 
jailer obliges me to share your confinement, and 
iris wearing on me, as it is on you. But you 
have unconsciously given me a thought — an 
idea that seems likely to lead to a compromise 
between us. I’m going to consider it seriously, 
and if it still looks good to me I’ll make you a 
proposition.” 


215 


216 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Saying this, she retired to her bedroom and 
closed the door after her, leaving Alora in a fit 
of nervous trembling through half-formed hopes 
that she might gain her release. 

It was nearly an hour before Janet returned. 
When she came from her room she stood before 
the girl for a time and seemed to study her face. 
Alora was anxious and did not endeavor to con- 
ceal the fact. In her hand the woman held a 
paper, which she presently laid upon the center- 
table. 

“ I have decided to make you a proposition,” 
she said, turning to seat herself near the table. 
“ If it interests you, all right; if it doesn’t, you 
may of course reject it. My offer is this: If 
you will tell me where to find your father and 
will promise not to mention me to him or to 
warn him of my intentions, and if you will sign 
this paper which I have prepared, I will allow 
you to return to your friends to-day. You are 
not especially fond of Jason Jones, I believe? ” 

“ Not especially, although he is my father,” 
returned Alora, eyeing the woman expectantly. 

“ Then you can have no objection to my forc- 
ing him to disgorge my share of his income, 
which you would not get in any event. I don’t 


A COMPROMISE 217 

know how much of an allowance he makes you, 
but ” 

“ I don’t get any allowance,” said Alora. 
“ In fact, he gives me nothing.” 

“ Then my demands on your father will not 
affect your interests. Are you willing to give 
me his address, and promise not to warn him? ” 

* ‘ Under the circumstances, yes.” 

< < Very well. I accept your plighted word — 
your word of honor. Now sign this paper and 
you may go.” 

She took the paper from the table and handed 
it to Alora, who read as follows : 

‘ ‘ For value received, in services faith- 
fully rendered and which I hereby freely 
and without coercion acknowledge, I 
hereby promise and agree to pay to 
Janet Orme Jones on the day that I 
attain my majority the sum of Fifty 
Thousand Dollars, which sum is to be 
paid from my estate without recourse, 
equivocation or attempt to repudiate the 
said obligation, inasmuch as I willingly 
admit the said sum to be justly due the 
said Janet Orme Jones. 

“ (Signed:) ” 


218 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


Alora read the paper twice, with growing 
indignation. Then she glanced up at her jailer 
and mattered questioningly : “ Jones? Janet 

Orme Jones? 99 

“ A family name, my dear. The Joneses are 
so thick and so unimportant that generally I do 
not use the name, but this is a legal document. 
I hope you won’t try to claim relationship,” she 
added with a light laugh. 

“ I’m not going to promise you so enormous a 
sum as fifty thousand dollars, even to secure my 
liberty,” said Alora. “ It’s out of all reason — 
it ’s — it ’s — outrageous ! ’ ’ 

“ Very well,” returned Janet, coolly; 6 6 that’s 
your own affair. This is merely a compromise 
proposition, suggested by yourself, as I told you. 
Let us say no more about it.” 

Alora was greatly disheartened. After allow- 
ing her hopes to run so high the disappointment 
was now doubly keen. Her defiance melted away 
with the thought of all the weary days of impris- 
onment she must endure until Janet was ready 
to act. 

“ I — I might agree to give you five thousand 
dollars,” she ventured. 

“ Nonsense. I’m not gunning for small game, 


A COMPROMISE 


219 


Alora. Did you but realize it, I am quite con- 
siderate in exacting only fifty thousand. Your 
estate is worth two millions. Your income is 
something like eighty thousand a year, and this 
payment would leave you thirty thousand to use 
the first year after you come into your fortune. 
I don’t believe you could spend thirty thousand 
in a year, when you are eighteen years of age.” 

Alora turned away and going to the front win- 
dow, looked through its stained and unwashed 
panes into the gloomy street below. The sight 
emphasized her isolation from the world. Her 
imprisonment was becoming unbearable. After 
all, she reflected, in reckless mood, what did so 
small a share of her prospective fortune weigh 
against her present comfort — and health — and 
happiness 7 

Janet was stealthily watching her. 

“ Should you decide to sign the paper,” said 
the nurse, 4 4 you must make up your mind not to 
raise a row when pay-day comes. The money 
will come out of your income, and instead of 
investing it in more bonds, you will have invested 
it in your liberty. You won’t be inconvenienced 
in the slightest degree. On the other hand, this 
money will mean everything to me — a modest 


220 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


competence for my old age and relief from the 
drudgery of working. I’ve had a hard life, my 
girl, for nursing is mere slavery to the whims 
of sick people. Consider, also, that for six years 
Jason Jones squandered all my savings in trying 
to paint pictures that were not worth the canvas 
he ruined. If I had that money now I wouldn’t 
need to descend to this disgraceful mode of 
recouping my bank account; but, under the cir- 
cumstances, don’t you think I am justly entitled 
to some of the Jones money? ” 

“ You’re going to get a lot from my father.” 
“ True; but that is for his indebtedness, while 
this amount is for your freedom. A scrape of 
the pen and you secure liberty, fresh air and the 
privilege of rejoining your friends, who are prob- 
ably getting anxious about you. If you are the 
sensible girl I take you to be, you won’t hesitate.” 

Alora knew the woman was pleading her own 
case, but the arguments appealed to her. She 
was weak and nervous and her longing for liberty 
outweighed her natural judgment. 

“ I suppose I’m a fool, but ” 

Slowly she approached the table where the 
written promissory note still lay. Janet had 
placed a pen and inkstand beside it. 


CHAPTER XXIH 


MABY LOUISE HAS AN INTUITION 

“ I wish, Josie,” said Mary Louis© dolefully, 
“ you’d let me help in this search for Alora. ’ ’ 

“ I’d be glad to, dear, if I could think of a 
single thing you can do,” replied her friend. 
“ Just now I’m on the most tedious task imagin- 
able — visiting the army of cab-drivers — horse 
and taxi — here in Chicago and trying to find the 
one who carried a woman and a girl away from 
the Blackington at six o’clock that eventful 
Tuesday morning.” 

“ Have you met with any success, at all? ” 
asked Mary Louise. 

“ That question proves you’re not fitted for 
detective work,” Josie laughingly asserted. “ A 
moment’s reflection would assure you that when 
I found my man my search would be ended. 
Ergo, no success has yet attended my efforts. 
I’ve interviewed a couple of hundreds, however, 
and that leaves only a few hundreds left to 
question. ’ ’ 


221 


222 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ But the whole thing drags terribly! ” com- 
plained Mary Louise. “ Days are passing, and 
who knows what may be happening to poor Alora 
while you are hanging around the cab-stands? ” 

Josie’s face grew grave. In sober tones she 
said: 

“Pm just as anxious as you are, Mary Louise. 
But this case is really puzzling, because Chicago 
is such a big city that criminals may securely 
hide themselves here for months — even for 
years — without being discovered. Mrs. Orme 
was clever enough to leave few traces behind 
her; as far as clews are concerned she might 
have evaporated into thin air, taking Alora with 
her — except for this matter of the cabman. 
That’s why I am pinning my faith to this search, 
knowing all the time, nevertheless, that Mrs. 
Orme may have provided for even that con- 
tingency and rendered the discovery of the cab- 
man impossible. To do that, however, she would 
have to use a private equipage, involving a con- 
federate, and I believe she preferred to take 
chances with a hired cab.” 

“ What are the police doing? ” inquired Mary 
Louise nervously. 

“ Nothing. They were soon discouraged and 


MARY LOUISE HAS AN INTUITION 223 


lost interest in the matter when I took hold of 
the case. But 1 don’t intend to get discouraged. 
I hate to be 6 stumped,’ as you know, and it 
seems to me, after careful consideration, that 
success may follow the discovery of the cab- 
driver. I’ve not been neglecting other trails, I 
assure you. I’ve obtained a pretty fair record 
of the history of nurse Orme. She has the habit 
of drudging in sick rooms until she accumulates 
enough capital to lead a gay life for a month or 
so, after which she resumes nursing in order to 
replenish her purse. She’s a good nurse and a 
wild spendthrift, but aside from the peculiarity 
mentioned there’s nothing in her career of espe- 
cial interest. The woman is pretty well known 
both in New York and Chicago, for she squanders 
in the first city and saves in the other, but of her 
early history there is no information available. 
In her wildest moods she has never done any- 
thing to warrant her arrest, yet the police have 
kept a suspicious eye on her for years.” 

“ Poor Alora! ” wailed Mary Louise, miser- 
ably; “ I wish I could do something for her.” 

“ You did a lot for her when you put me 
on her trail,” declared Josie, with conviction. 
“ I’ve a hunch I shall win. I’ve wired Daddy 


224 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


0 ’Gorman all about the case, but he says he 
can’t advise me. In other words, he’s watching 
to see whether I make good or cave in, and I 
just dare not fail. So keep your courage, Mary 
Louise, and muster all the confidence you are 
able to repose in me. I may not know all the 
tricks of the sleuths, but I know some of them. 
And now I’m off to interview more cabmen.” 

Mary Louise sighed as her friend left her. 
She was indeed very unhappy and restless during 
those days of tedious waiting. Peter Conant had 
come to Chicago on the Colonel’s demand, but 
Mary Louise couldn’t see how he was able to 
help them one bit. 

“ Of course,” the lawyer had said in his terse, 
choppy manner, “ whoever abducted the girl is 
criminally liable. We can put the party in jail.” 

“ When we get her,” suggested Mary Louise 
impatiently. “ The party is Mrs. Orme; we have 
established that fact without a doubt; and, if we 
could get her, we’d also get Alora.” 

“ Just so,” Peter replied; “ and, between the 
O’Gorman girl and the police, we ought to cap- 
ture the woman soon. I have a degree of con- 
fidence in Josie O’Gorman and somewhat more 
confidence in the police.” 


MARY LOUISE HAS AN INTUITION 225 


“ Do you think we should notify Jason 
Jones? ” inquired Colonel Hathaway. 

“ I have considered that, sir, in all its phases, 
and knowing the man’s peculiar characteristics 
I believe such a course is not as yet desirable. 
Jones is so enthralled by his latest craze over 
aviation that he would be no fit adviser and 
could render no practical assistance in the search 
for his daughter. On the other hand, his asso- 
ciation would be annoying, for he would merely 
accuse you of neglect in permitting Alora to be 
stolen while in your care. I have seen a copy 
of his wife’s will and know that the girl’s loss 
may cost him his guardianship and the per- 
quisites that pertain to it. In that case he will 
probably sue you for the loss of the money, 
claiming Alora ’s abduction was due to your 
carelessness.” 

“ He could not win such an absurd suit, how- 
ever,” declared the Colonel. 

“ Still, he might be awarded damages,” 
asserted the lawyer. “ Juries are uncertain; the 
law is somewhat elastic; judges are peculiar.” 

“ Don’t worry, Gran ’pa Jim,” said Mary 
Louise soothingly, as she sat on the arm of his 
chair and rubbed the wrinkles from his fore- 


226 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


head; “ there must he such a thing as justice, 
even in law.” 

“ Law is justice,” stated Mr. Conant, resent- 
ing the insinuation, “ but justice is sometimes 
recognized by humans in one form, and some- 
times in another. I do not say that Jason Jones 
could collect damages on such complaint, but he 
assuredly would have a case.” 

Mr. Conant had desired to return home after 
the first conference with his client, but he 
admitted that his wife was recovering from her 
indisposition and a kindly neighbor was assist- 
ing Irene in the care of her, so he yielded to 
his client’s urgent request to remain. Colonel 
Hathaway was more alarmed by Alora’s disap- 
pearance than he allowed Mary Louise to guess, 
and he wanted Mr. Conant to spur the police 
to renewed effort. In addition to this the Col- 
onel and his lawyer usually spent the best part 
of each day pursuing investigations on their own 
account, with the result that Mary Louise was 
left to mope alone in the hotel rooms. 

The young girl was fond of Alora and secretly 
terrified over her mysterious disappearance. She 
tried to embroider, as she sat alone and waited 
for something to happen, but her nerveless fin- 


MARY LOUISE HAS AN INTUITION 227 


gers would not hold the needle. She bought some 
novels but could not keep her mind on the 
stories. Hour by hour she gazed from the win- 
dow into the crowded street below, searching 
each form and face for some resemblance to 
Alora. She had all the newspapers sent to her 
room, that she might scan the advertisements and 
“ personals ” for a clew, and this led her to fol- 
lowing the news of the Great War, in which she 
found a partial distraction from her worries. 
And one morning, after her grandfather and the 
lawyer had left her, she was glancing over the 
columns of the Tribune when an item caught her 
eye that drew from her a cry of astonishment. 

The item read as follows: 

“ The Grand Prize at the exhibition 
of American paintings being held in the 
Art Institute was yesterday awarded by 
the jury to the remarkable landscape 
entitled ‘ Poppies and Pepper Trees * by 
the California artist, Jason Jones. This 
picture has not only won praise from 
eminent critics but has delighted the 
thousands of visitors who have flocked 
to the exhibition, so the award is a pop- 
ular one. The Associated Artists are 


228 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


tendering a banquet to-night to Jason 
Jones at the Congress Hotel, where he 
is staying. The future of this clever 
artist promises well and will be followed 
with interest by all admirers of his skill- 
ful technique and marvelous coloring.” 

Mary Louise read this twice, trying to under- 
stand what it meant. Then she read it a third 
time. 

“ How strangely we have all been deceived in 
Alora’s father! ” she murmured. “ I remember 
that Gran ’pa Jim once claimed that any man so 
eccentric might well possess talent, but even Mr. 
Jones’ own daughter did not believe he was a 
true artist. And Alora never guessed he was 
still continuing to paint — alone and in secret — 
or that he had regained his former powers and 
was creating a masterpiece. We have all been 
sadly wrong in our judgment of Jason Jones. 
Only his dead wife knew he was capable of great 
things.” 

She dropped the paper, still somewhat bewil- 
dered by the remarkable discovery. 

* t And he is here in Chicago, too ! ’ ’ she mused, 
continuing her train of thought, “ and we all 
thought he was stupidly learning to fly in Dor- 


MARY LOUISE HAS AN INTUITION 229 


field. Oh, now I understand why he allowed 
Alora to go with us. He wanted to exhibit his 
picture — the picture whose very existence he 
had so carefully guarded — and knew that with 
all of us out of the way, afloat upon the Great 
Lakes, he could come here without our knowledge 
and enter the picture in the exhibition. It may 
be he doubted its success — he is diffident in some 
ways — and thought if it failed none of us at 
home would be the wiser; but Pm sure that now 
he has won he will brag and bluster and be very 
conceited and disagreeable over his triumph. 
That is the man’s nature — to be cowed by fail- 
ure and bombastic over success. It’s singular, 
come to think it over, how one who has the soul 
to create a wonderful painting can be so crude 
and uncultured, so morose and — -and — cruel.” 

Suddenly she decided to go and look at the 
picture. The trip would help to relieve her lone- 
liness and she was eager to see what Jason Jones 
had really accomplished. The Institute was not 
far from her hotel; she could walk the distance 
in a few minutes ; so she put on her hat and set 
out for the exhibition. 

On her way, disbelief assailed her. “ I don’t 
see how the man did it! ” she mentally declared. 


230 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ I wonder if that item is just a huge joke, 
because the picture was so bad that the reporter 
tried to be ironical.” 

But when she entered the exhibition and found 
a small crowd gathered around one picture — it 
was still early in the day — she dismissed at once 
that doubtful supposition. 

“ That is the Jason Jones picture,” said an 
attendant, answering her question and nodding 
toward the admiring group; “ that’s the prize- 
winner — over there.” 

Mary Louise edged her way through the crowd 
until the great picture was in full view ; and then 
she drew a long breath, awestruck, delighted, 
filled with a sense of all-pervading wonder. 

“ It’s a tremendous thing! ” whispered a man 
beside her to his companion. “ There’s nothing 
in the exhibit to compare with it. Amd how it 
breathes the very spirit of California! ” 

“ California? ” thought Mary Louise. Of 
course; those yellow poppies and lacy pepper 
trees with their deep red berries were typical of 
no other place. And the newspaper had called 
Jason Jones a California artist. When had he 
been in California, she wondered. Alora had 
never mentioned visiting the Pacific Coast. 


MARY LOUISE HAS AN INTUITION 231 


Yet, sometime, surely, her father must have 
lived there. Was it while Alora was a small 
child, and after her mother had cast him off? 
He could have made sketches then, and preserved 
them for future use. 

As she stood there marveling at the superb 
genius required to produce such a masterpiece 
of art, a strange notion crept stealthily into her 
mind. Promptly she drove it out; but it pres- 
ently returned; it would not be denied; finally, 
it mastered her. 

“ Anyhow,” she reflected, setting her teeth 
together, “ IT1 beard the wolf in his den. If my 
intuition has played me false, at worst the man 
can only sneer at me and I’ve always weathered 
his scornful moods. But if I am right — - ’ ’ 

The suggestion was too immense to consider 
calmly. With quick, nervous steps she hastened 
to the Congress Hotel and sent up her card to 
Jason Jones. On it she had written in pencil: 
“ I shall wait for you in the parlor. Please come 
to me.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


AN INTERRUPTION 

“ Before you sign this promissory note,” 
remarked Janet Orme, as Alora reluctantly 
seated herself at the table, “ you must perform 
the other part of your agreement and give me 
the present address of your father, Jason Jones.” 

“ He lives in Dorfie-ld,” said Alora. 

“ Write his street number — here, on this 
separate sheet.” 

The girl complied. 

‘ ‘ Is it a private house, or is it a studio ? ’ ’ 

“ A cottage. Father doesn’t paint any more.” 

“ That is very sensible of him,” declared the 
nurse; “ yet I wonder how he can resist paint- 
ing. He has always had a passion for the thing 
and in the old days was never happy without a 
brush in his hand. He had an idea he could do 
something worth while, but that was mere delu- 
sion, for he never turned out anything decent or 
that would sell in the market. Therefore the 
money he spent for paints, brushes and canvas 

232 


AN INTERRUPTION 


233 


— money I worked hard to earn — was absolutely 
wasted. Does your father keep any servants? ” 

“ One maid, an Irish girl born in the town.” 

“ Still economical, I see. Well, that’s all the 
information I require. You have given your 
word of honor not to notify him that I have 
discovered his whereabouts. Is it not so? ” 

“ Yes,” said Alora. 

“ Now sign the note.” 

Alora, pen in hand, hesitated while she slowly 
read the paper again. She hated to give fifty 
thousand dollars to this scheming woman, even 
though the loss of such a sum would not seriously 
impair her fortune. But what could she do? 

“ Sign it, girl! ” exclaimed Janet, impatiently. 

Alora searched the note for a loophole that 
would enable her afterward to repudiate it. She 
knew nothing of legal phrases, yet the wording 
seemed cleverly constructed to defeat any attempt 
to resist payment. 

4 4 Sign ! ’ ’ cried the woman. 

With pen hovering over the place where she 
had been told to write her name, Alora still hesi- 
tated and seeing this the nurse’s face grew dark 
with anger. A sudden 44 click ” sounded from 
the hall door, but neither heard it. 


234 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Sign! ” she repeated, half rising with a 
threatening gesture. 

“ No, don’t sign, please,” said a clear voice, 
and a short, stumpy girl with red hair and 
freckled face calmly entered the room and stood 
smilingly before them. 

Janet uttered an exclamation of surprise and 
annoyance and sank back in her chair, glaring at 
the intruder. Alora stared in speechless amaze- 
ment at the smiling girl, whom she had never 
seen before. 

“ How did you get in here? ” demanded 
Janet angrily. 

“ Why, I just unlocked the door and walked 
in,” was the reply, delivered in a cheery and 
somewhat triumphant voice. 

“ This is a private apartment.” 

“ Indeed? I thought it was a prison,” said 
the girl. “ I imagined you, Mrs. Orme, to be 
a jailer, and this young person — who is Miss 
Alora Jones, I believe — I supposed to be your 
prisoner. Perhaps I’m wrong, but I guess I’m 
right. ’ ’ 

The nurse paled. The look she flashed from 
her half-veiled eyes was a dangerous look. She 
knew, in the instant, that the stranger had come 


AN INTERRUPTION 


235 


to liberate Alora, but the next instant she 
reflected that all was not lost, for she had 
already decided to release her prisoner without 
compulsion. It was important to her plans, how- 
ever, that she obtain the promissory note; so, 
instantly controlling herself, she lightly touched 
Alora ’s arm and said in her usual soft voice: 

“ Sign your name, my dear, and then we will 
talk with this person.’ ’ 

Alora did not move to obey, for she had caught 
a signal from the red-headed girl. 

1 ‘ I object to your signing that paper,” pro- 
tested the stranger, seating herself in a vacant 
chair. “ I haven’t the faintest idea what it is 
you’re about to sign, but if I were you I wouldn’t 
do it.” 

“ It is the price of my liberty,” explained 
Alora. 

“ Well, this is a free country and liberty 
doesn’t cost anything. I’ve a carriage waiting 
outside, and I will drive you back to the Colonel 
and Mary Louise free of charge. You won’t 
even have to whack up on the cab hire.” 

The nurse slowly rose and faced the girl. 

“ Who are you? ” she demanded. 

“ No one of importance,” was the answer. 


236 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ I’m just Josie O’Gorman, the daughter of 
John O’Gorman, of Washington, who is a lieu- 
tenant in the government’s secret service.” 

“ Then you’re a detective? ” 

“ The aforesaid John O’Gorman declares I’m 
not. He says I must learn a lot before I become 
a real detective, so at present I’m just prac- 
ticing. Mary Louise is my friend, you know,” 
she continued, now addressing Alora, “ and you 
are a friend of Mary Louise; so, when you mys- 
teriously disappeared, she telegraphed me and 
I came on to hunt you up. That wasn’t an easy 
job for an amateur detective, I assure you, and 
it cost me a lot of time and some worry, but 
glory be! I’ve now got you located and Mrs. 
Orme’s jig is up.” 

The nurse moved softly to the door that led 
into the passage and locked it, putting the key 
into her pocket. 

“ Now,” said she, with another flash of those 
curious eyes, “ I have two prisoners.” 

Josie laughed. 

“ I could almost have sworn you’d try that 
trick,” she remarked. “ It was on the cards 
and you couldn’t resist it. Permit me to say, 
Mrs. Orme, that you’re a rather clever woman, 


AN INTERRUPTION 


237 


and I admire cleverness even when it's mis- 
directed. But my Daddy has taught me, in his 
painstaking way, not to be caught napping. A 
good soldier provides for a retreat as well as an 
advance. I've been on your trail for a long 
time and only this morning succeeded in winning 
the confidence of the cabman who drove you here. 
Wasn't sure, of course, that you were still here, 
until I saw Alora's face at the window a while 
ago. Then I knew I'd caught you. The cab is 
a closed one and holds four inside, so I invited 
three policeman to accompany me. One is at 
the back of this house, one at the front door and 
the third is just outside here on the landing. 
Probably he can hear us talking. He's a big 
man, that third policeman, and if I raise my 
voice to cry out he could easily batter down the 
door you have locked and come to my rescue. 
Now will you be good, Mrs. Orme? " 

The nurse realized her defeat. She deliberately 
took the note from the table and tore it up. 

“ You have really foiled me, my girl," she 
said philosophically, “ although if you knew all 
you would not blame me for what I have done." 

“ You've decided not to dig any money out 
of Alora, then? " 


238 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ It wouldn’t matter to her, but I have aban- 
doned the idea. However, I shall insist on 
making Jason Jones pay me liberally for my 
disappointment. Now take the girl and go. Get 
your things on, Alora.” 

Josie regarded her thoughtfully. 

“ I had intended to arrest you, Mrs. Orme,” 
she remarked; “ but, honestly, I can’t see what 
good it would do, while it would cause Mary 
Louise and the dear Colonel a heap of trouble 
in prosecuting you. So, unless Miss Jones 
objects ” 

“ All I want it to get away from here, to be 
out of her clutches,” asserted Alora. 

“ Then let us go. The woman deserves pun- 
ishment, but doubtless she’ll get her just deserts 
in other ways. Get your things on, my dear; the 
cab and the policemen are waiting.” 

Janet Orme unlocked the door to the passage. 
Then she stood motionless, with drooping eyelids, 
while the two girls passed out. Alora, greatly 
unnerved and still fearful, clung to the arm of 
her rescuer. 

When they had gained the street and were 
about to enter the closed automobile she asked: 
“ Where are the three policemen? ” 


AN INTERRUPTION 


239 


“ Invisible,’ ’ returned Josie, very cheerfully. 
“ I had to invent that story, my dear, and the 
Recording Angel is said to forgive detectives for 
lying . 9 7 

She followed Alora into the car and closed the 
door. 

“ Drive to the Blackington, please,” she called 
to the driver. 

And, as they whirled away, she leaned from 
the window and waved a parting signal to Mrs. 
Orme, who stood in the upper window, her face 
contorted and scowling with chagrin at the dis- 
covery that she had been outwitted by a mere 
girl. 


CHAPTER XXV 


JASON JONES 

The Colonel and Peter Conant had just entered 
the drawing room of the suite at the hotel and 
found Mary Louise absent. This was unusual 
and unaccountable and they were wondering 
what could have become of the girl when the 
door suddenly burst open and Josie’s clear voice 
cried triumphantly: 

“ I’ve got her! I’ve captured the missing 
heiress at last! ” 

Both men, astonished, rose to their feet as 
Alora entered and with a burst of tears threw 
her arms around the old Colonel’s neck. For a 
few moments the tableau was dramatic, all being 
speechless with joy at the reunion. Colonel 
Hathaway patted Alora ’s head and comforted the 
sobbing girl as tenderly as if she had been his 
own grandchild — or Mary Louise. 

Josie perched herself lightly on the center- 
table and swinging her legs complacently back 
and forth explained her discovery in a stream 
240 


JASON JONES 241 

of chatter, for she was justly elated by her 
success. 

“ And to think,” she concluded, “ that I never 
missed a clew ! That it was really the nurse, Mrs. 
Orme — Mrs. Jones’ old nurse — who stole Alora, 
according to our suspicions, and that her object 
was just what I thought, to get money from 
that miser Jason Jones! Daddy will he pleased 
with this triumph; I’m pleased; Mary Louise 
will be pleased, and — By the way, where is 
Mary Louise? ” 

“ I don’t know,” confessed the Colonel, who 
had just placed Alora, now more self-possessed, 
in a chair. “ I was beginning to worry about 
her when you came in. She seldom leaves these 
rooms, except for a few moments, and even then 
she tells me, or leaves word, where she is going. 
I spoke to the clerk, when I returned, and he 
said she had left the hotel early this morning, 
and it’s now four o’clock.” 

Josie’s smile faded and her face became grave. 

* l 6 Now, who,” she said, “ could have an object 
in stealing Mary Louise? Complications threaten 
us in this matter and the first thing we must do 
is ” 

il Oh, Alora! ” exclaimed Mary Louise, who 


242 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


had softly opened the door and caught sight of 
her friend. Next moment the two girls were 
locked in an embrace and Josie, a shade of dis- 
appointment struggling with her sunny smile, 
remarked coolly: 

“Very well; that beats the champion female 
detective out of another job. But I might have 
known Mary Louise wouldn’t get herself stolen; 
no such adventure ever happens to her.” 

Mary Louise turned to the speaker with an 
earnest look on her sweet face. 

“An adventure has happened to me, Josie, 
and — and — I hardly know how to break the 
news.” 

She held Alora at arms’ length and looked 
gravely into her friend’s face. Alora noted the 
serious expression and said quickly: 

“ What is it? Bad news for me? ” 

“I — I think not,” replied Mary Louise, hesi- 
tatingly; “but it’s — it’s wonderful news, and 
I hardly know how to break it to you.” 

“ The best way,” remarked Josie, much inter- 
ested, “is to let it out in a gush. 4 Wonderful ’ 
stuff never causes anyone to faint.” 

“ Alora,” said Mary Louise solemnly, “ your 
father is here.” 


JASON JONES 


243 


“ Where? ” 

“ He is just outside, in the corridor.” 

“ Why doesn’t he come in? ” asked the Colonel. 

“ He needn’t have worried about me,” said 
Alora, in sullen tone, “ hut I suppose it was the 
danger of losing his money that — - ” 

“No,” interrupted Mary Louise; “you mis- 
take me. Jason Jones, the great artist — a 
splendid, cultured man and ’ ’ 

A sharp rap at the door made her pause. 
Answering the Colonel’s summons a bellboy 
entered. 

“ For Mr. Conant, sir,” he said, offering a 
telegram. 

The lawyer tore open the envelope as the hoy 
went out and after a glance at it exclaimed in 
shocked surprise: “ Great heavens! ” 

Then he passed the message to Colonel Hatha- 
way, who in turn read it and passed it to Josie 
O’Gorman. Blank silence followed, while Mary 
Louise and Alora eyed the others expectantly. 

“ Who did you say is outside in the corridor? ” 
demanded Josie in a puzzled tone. 

“ Alora ’s father,” replied Mary Louise. 

“ Jason Jones? ” 

“ Jason Jones,” repeated Mary Louise gravely. 


244 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


“ Well, then, listen to this telegram. It was 
sent to Mr. Peter Conant from Dorfield and 
says : ‘ Jason Jones killed by falling from an 

aeroplane at ten o’clock this morning. Notify 
his daughter.’ ” 

Alora drew a quick breath and clasped her 
hands over her heart. Uncongenial as the two 
had been, Jason Jones was her father — her only 
remaining parent — and the suddenness of his 
death shocked and horrified the girl. Indeed, all 
present were horrified, yet Mary Louise seemed 
to bear the news more composedly than the 
others — as if it were a minor incident in a great 
drama. She slipped an arm around her girl 
friend’s waist and said soothingly: 

“ Never mind, dear. It is dreadful, I know. 
What an awful way to die! And yet — and yet, 
Alora — it may be all for the best.” 

Josie slid down from the table. Her active 
brain was the first to catch a glimmering of 
what Mary Louise meant. 

“ Shall I call that man in? ” she asked 
excitedly, “ the man whom you say is Alora ’s 
father? ” 

6 i No,” answered Mary Louise. “ Let me go 
for him, please. I — I must tell him this strange 


JASON JONES 


245 


news myself. Try to quiet yourself, Alora, and 

— and be prepared. I’m going to introduce to 
you — Jason Jones.” 

She uttered the last sentence slowly and with 
an earnestness that bewildered all her hearers 

— except, perhaps, Josie O’Gorman. And then 
she left the room. 

The little group scarcely moved or spoke. 

It seemed an age to them, yet it was only a 
few moments, when Mary Louise came back, 
leading by the hand a tall, handsome gentleman 
who bore in every feature, in every movement, 
the mark of good birth, culture, and refinement, 
and in a voice that trembled with nervous excite- 
ment the girl announced : 

“ This is Jason Jones — a California artist — 
the man who married Antoinette Seaver. He is 
Alora ’s father. And the other — the other ’ ’ 

“ Why, the other was a fraud, of course,” 
exclaimed Josie. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED 

I am quite sure it is unnecessary to relate in 
detail the scene that followed Mary Louise's 
introduction or the excited inquiries and expla- 
nations which naturally ensued. To those present 
the scene was intensely dramatic and never to be 
forgotten, but such a meeting between father and 
daughter is considered too sacred to be described 
here. 

Mary Louise's intuition had not played her 
false. She had found at the Congress Hotel 
another Jason Jones, far different from the one 
she had known, and a few questions elicited 
the fact that he was indeed the father of Alora. 
So, as briefly as she could, she told him how 
another man had usurped his place and seized 
all of Alora 's income, at the same time willfully 
depriving the girl of such comforts and accom- 
plishments as one in her position should enjoy. 

“ And to think," she added indignantly, “ that 
he is not Jason Jones at all! ” 


246 


WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED 247 

“ I believe you are mistaken there,” replied 
the artist thoughtfully. “ Jason is a family 
name, derived from one of our most eminent 
ancestors, and in my generation it is also home, 
I have learned, by one of my second cousins, a 
Jason Jones who is also a painter and aspires 
to fame as an artist. I have never met the man, 
but his indifferently executed canvases, offered 
for sale under our common name, formerly 
caused me considerable annoyance and perhaps 
interfered with my career. But of late I have 
not heard of this Jason Jones, for soon after 
my separation from my wife I went to Southern 
California and located in a little bungalow hidden 
in a wild canyon of the Santa Monica mountains. 
There I have secluded myself for years, deter- 
mined to do some really good work before I 
returned East to prove my ability. Some time 
after Antoinette died I saw a notice to that 
effect in a newspaper, but there were no com- 
ments and I did not know that she had made 
me guardian of our child. That was like 
Antoinette,” he continued, in gentler tones; “ she 
was invariably generous and considerate of my 
shortcomings, even after we realized we were 
not fitted to live together. Her renunciation of 


248 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


me seemed harsh, at first, for I could not under- 
stand her ambitions, but in fact she drove me 
to success. I have won the Grand Prize, after 
all these years of patient labor, and from now on 
my future is assured.” 

“ Have you never longed for your child? ” 
asked Mary Louise reproachfully. 

“ I have, indeed. In imagination I have fol- 
lowed Alora’s growth and development year 
by year, and one of my most cherished antici- 
pations when coming here was to seek out my 
daughter and make myself known to her. I 
knew she had been well provided for in worldly 
goods and I hoped to find her happy and content. 
If my picture received favorable comment at the 
exhibition I intended to seek Alora. I did not 

expect to win the Grand Prize.” 
******** 

It was this newly discovered Jason Jones and 
his daughter — who already loved him and shyly 
clung to this responsive and congenial parent — 
who went to Dorfield with the Colonel and Mary 
Louise and Peter Conant and Josie O ’Gorman to 
attend the obsequies of the other less fortunate 
Jason Jones. Mrs. Orme was there, too; Mrs. 
Janet Orme Jones; for she admitted she was 


WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED 249 

the dead man’s wife and told them, in a chastened 
but still defiant mood, how the substitution of her 
husband for the other artist had come about. 

“ Many years ago, when I was nursing in a 
New York hospital,’ , she said, “ a man was 
brought in with both arms broken, having been 
accidentally knocked down by a street-car. I was 
appointed to nurse him and learned from him 
that he was Jason Jones, a poor artist who was, 
however, just about to win recognition. He 
showed me a newspaper clipping that highly 
praised a painting then being exhibited at the 
Metropolitan Museum of Art, which was signed 
Jason Jones. I know now that it wasn’t his 
picture at all, but the work of his cousin, but at 
the time the clipping deceived me. 

“ I was ambitious to become something more 
than a nurse. I thought that to be the wife of a 
famous artist would bring me wealth and a posi- 
tion in society, so I married Jason Jones — with- 
out love — and he married me — also without 
love — in order to get my wages. He won where 
I lost, for during several years I foolishly sup- 
ported him with my savings, always expecting 
him to become famous. At first he attributed his 
failures to his broken arms, although they had 


250 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


healed perfectly, and I ignorantly accepted the 
excuse. It was only after years of waiting for 
the man to prove his ability that I finally woke 
to the truth — that he had no talent — and I then 
left him to his own devices. In Chicago I sought 
to forget my unfortunate past and found regular 
employment there in my profession. 

“ It was while nursing Mrs. Jones that I over- 
heard her give to Doctor Anstruther the sup- 
posed address of her husband, which had been 
furnished her by a casual acquaintance, and tell 
him to wire Jason Jones to come to her at once. 
I well knew a mistake had been made and that 
she had given the doctor my own husband’s 
address — the address of an entirely different 
Jason Jones. My first impulse was to undeceive 
her, but that would involve humiliating explana- 
tions, so I hesitated and finally decided to remain 
silent. When the doctor had gone to telegraph 
and the die was cast, I reflected that my husband, 
whom I knew to be sunk in poverty, would ignore 
the request to come to Chicago to be reconciled 
to his dying wife. My Jason wouldn’t care 
whether I lived or died and wouldn’t have spent 
a cent to be reconciled with me. For of course 
he would think it was I who asked for him, since 


WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED 251 

lie would know nothing of Antoinette Seaver 
Jones or that she was the wife of his distant 
relative, the other Jason Jones. 

“ He did, indeed, answer Doctor Anstruther 
by saying he would not come unless his expenses 
were advanced, so the good doctor launched the 
future deception by sending him ample funds. 
I knew of this action and wondered what I ought 
to do. There would be a terrible mix-up when 
my husband appeared, and I realized how dis- 
appointed the sick woman would be. Knowing 
her condition to be dangerous, I feared the shock 
would kill her, which it really did, for still I 
kept silent. I told myself that I had not aided 
in the deception in any way, that it was a trick 
of fate, and I could not be blamed. I thought 
that when Doctor Anstruther met my husband 
there would be explanations and the truth would 
come out, but somehow that did not happen. 
Jason Jones walked into Antoinette Seaver 
Jones’ room expecting to find me dying, and saw 
a strange woman in the bed and his wife — in 
good health — standing before him. He let out 
an oath in his surprise and my patient, who had 
raised up in bed to stare at him, uttered a low 
moan and fell back on her pillow, dead. I saw 


252 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


the tragedy and involuntarily screamed, and 
Jason Jones saw she was dead and cried out in 
fear. I had just time to recover my wits and 
whisper to him to keep his mouth shut and I 
would make him rich when Doctor Anstruther 
hurried into the room. 

“ The whole thing was unpremeditated up to 
that time, but now I assisted fate, for I had 
witnessed Mrs. Jones * will and knew well its 
contents. No one seemed to know there were two 
artists named Jason Jones and everyone accepted 
my husband as Alora’s father and the one 
entitled to her guardianship and to profit by the 
terms of the will. 

“ An hour after Mrs. Jones died I secured a 
secret interview with my husband, who until 
then had been thoroughly bewildered, and ex- 
plained to him that the mistake in identity would, 
if he took prompt advantage of it, give him the 
control of an enormous income for seven years 
— until the child reached the age of eighteen. 
He was fearful, at first, that the other Jason 
Jones would appear and prosecute him for 
swindling, but as the husband of Antoinette 
Seaver had not been heard from in years, even 
by his own wife, I induced him to accept the risk. 


WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED 253 


It was I who virtually put that income into my 
husband’s hands, and in return he agreed to 
supply me with whatever money I demanded, up 
to a half of his receipts. But he proved that 
there is not always honor among thieves, for 
after he had been made legal executor of the 
estate and his fears had somewhat subsided he 
endeavored to keep all the money for himself 
and begrudged me the one or two instalments I 
forced him to give me. Strangely enough, this 
formerly poverty-stricken artist now developed 
a love of accumulation — a miserly love for the 
money itself, and hated to spend any of it even 
on himself or on the girl to whom he owed his 
good fortune. The coward actually ran away 
and hid himself in Europe, and I, having spent 
all the money he had given me, with the idea 
I had an inexhaustible fund to draw upon, was 
forced to turn nurse again. 

“ After three years I had saved enough to 
follow him to Europe, where I located him at 
a lonely villa in Italy. Its very loneliness was 
my undoing, for he made a husky servant lock 
me up in an outhouse and there I was held a 
prisoner until Jason had again escaped to 
America. He thought he could hide better in 


254 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 

the United States and that I wouldn’t have the 
money to follow him there, but I had fortunately 
saved enough for my return passage. By the 
time I got home, however, he had completely 
disappeared and all my efforts failed to locate 
him. So I returned to Chicago and again 
resumed my profession. 

“ You will say I might have denounced him 
as an impostor and made the police hunt him 
up, but that would have ruined my chances of 
ever getting another penny of the money and 
might have involved me personally. Jason knew 
that, and it made him bold to defy me. I silently 
bided my time, believing that fate would one day 
put the man in my power. 

“ You know how I happened to find Alora in 
Chicago and how I lured her to my home and 
kept her there a prisoner.” 

It was found that the dead man had made 
large investments in his own name, and as he 
had left no will J anet declared that this property 
now belonged to her, as his widow. Lawyer 
Conant, however, assured her that as the money 
had never been legally her husband’s, but was 
secured by him under false pretenses, all the 
investments and securities purchased with it must 


WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED 255 

be transferred to the real Jason Jones, to whom 
they now belonged. The court would attend to 
that matter. 

“ And it serves you right, madam, 7 7 added 
Peter Conant, “ for concocting the plot to 
swindle Alora’s father out of the money his 
dead wife intended him to have. You are not 
properly punished, for you should be sent to 
jail, but your disappointment will prove a slight 
punishment, at least. 7 7 

“ So far as I knew, 7 7 answered Janet, defend- 
ing her crime, “ Alora’s father was either dead 
or hidden in some corner of the world where he 
could never be found. To my knowledge there 
was no such person existent, so the substitution 
of my husband for him did him no injury and 
merely kept the income out of the clutches of 
paid executors. Had the right man appeared, 
at any time during these four years, to claim 
his child and the money, he might easily have 
secured them by proving his identity. So the 
fault was his as much as mine. 7 7 

Jason Jones had personally listened to the 
woman’s confession, which filled him with won- 
der. While severely condemning her unscrupu- 
lous methods he refused to prosecute her, 


256 MARY LOUISE SOLVES A MYSTERY 


although Mr. Conaut urged him to do so, and 
even carried his generosity to the extent of pre- 
senting her with one of her dead husband’s small 
investments, obtaining from her in return the 
promise to lead an honest and respectable life. 

It had been the artist’s intention to return 
to his California bungalow, but after the probate 
court had acknowledged him and transferred to 
him the guardianship of his daughter, he decided 
to devote the coming years to Alora and endeavor 
to recompense her with fatherly devotion for the 
privations and unhappiness she had formerly 
endured. 

Alora did not wish to be separated from Mary 
Louise, so her father purchased the handsome 
residence of Senator Huling, which was situated 
directly opposite to that of Colonel Hathaway 
in Dorfield, and succeeded in making it a real 
home for his daughter. 

Josie O’Gorman went back to Washington well 
pleased with her success, although she said with 
a little grimace of feigned regret : 

61 1 did pretty well, for an amateur, for I 
tackled a tough case and won out; but, after all, 
it was Mary Louise who solved the mystery and 
restored Alora to her honest-for-true father.” 







